Limelight
by Aurorajaye
Summary: Rachel was blamed for Babygate and found herself in the wrong kind of spotlight. This fic shifts POV between characters as the glee club adjusts to life post-Sectionals. Puckleberry, eventually, with a hint of of Brittana and Quinn/Finn. Any requests?
1. Chapter1 Rachel: Wrong Kind of Spotlight

**AN: ****AN- Recently, a friend told me Rachel shouldn't have told Finn about the baby. I was appalled...and inspired. How would Rachel defend her role in Babygate? Eventually, this will be Puckleberry, as I find them irresistible. **

**At Freaktonight's helpful suggestion, I've heavily revised Chapter 1! Enjoy.**

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I was simultaneously covered in three flavors of slushie: blue raspberry, cherry and grape. It was, perhaps, the most slushie that had ever hit me at one time.

"Jeeze, Berry!" I heard Puck say. I hadn't opened my eyes yet, as I knew there was too much corn syrup: it would just get in my eyes and sting. "Come on," he said, leading me by the arm. He took me into the girl's bathroom, and I heard him grab the folding chair I kept under the sinks. I could hear him run water, and then a soft cloth gently wiped the sticky ice from my face.

I'd been expecting him to use paper towels, as I hadn't heard him unzip my bag for my Slushie Clean-up Kit. I opened my eyes and saw that Noah had washed my face with a white t-shirt. Now he was just wearing a flannel shirt. He'd only bothered to button a couple of buttons when he put his shirt back on. I could see flashes of his lovely abs as he moved on to rinsing my hair.

"Noah, thank you for your help!" I said.

He shook his head. "Whatever, Berry. You got this?"

I realized he was asking if I could handle the situation from that point on. "Of course, Noah. Thank you, again." He nodded and left the bathroom.

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The Sunday before, Mercedes had posted the link to Jacob Ben-Israel's blog on my MySpace page. Normally, I wouldn't have deigned to read such a thing, but I had realized that dealing with tabloid journalism was a skill I needed to acquire if I'm to be a star on Broadway. Poor Idina has to deal with the rumors they spread about what Taye is doing while he's filming Private Practice in L.A. and she's she's starring in a new play in New York.

Jacob had posted a picture of Puck, Finn, Quinn and me that he had apparently snapped at sectionals, despite the fact that cameras were prohibited. At least it was a flattering picture. Then I took a deep breath, preparing to read the stories.

**A Berry Big Weekend!**

"Naughty schoolgirl Rachel Berry had a busy weekend. First, she split up uber-couple Finn & Quinn by revealing the real baby-daddy: Rachel's Neanderthal ex, Noah Puckerman! Finn tried to flatten Puck's face and quit Glee. In her moment of need, Rachel called me to save the day at Sectionals, and I was happy to help the luscious lady. At the contest, we discovered that Cheerios Coach Sue Sylvester leaked our set list to the other schools, who stole our songs. Rachel rallied the troops to create a new routine. Frankenteen Finn returned at the last second with a Rolling Stones classic in hand, so I returned to the audience just in time for Rachel to serenade me. McKinley's New Directions brought home the gold! Now, will Berry manage to snag McKinley's newly-single Golden Boy?"

He reads too much Perez Hilton. Then I looked at the preceding story's headline: "**Chastity Queen Quinn Got Pucked! Finn Hudson, you are NOT the father."**

I had read that one, too, and sighed. I had been looking forward to the week to come, ruling the school as champions, but grew to fear that our celebrity status was not going to be as glamorous as I'd hoped.

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Now, with my triple-slushie-shower, my sixth sense had clearly proved accurate yet again. Being a McKinley High celebrity was unpleasant at best. People all over school blamed _me_ for what they're calling "Babygate." It's not fair!

No one who's actually _involved_ in "Babygate" is mad at me! Quinn said I was brave enough to say what she couldn't. Finn told me he was glad he could trust me, and that someone finally told him the truth. Noah…well, Noah hasn't _said _anything, but in the hall after Finn and Noah had that terrible fight, he gave me a very intense _look_, and came to my rescue, literally giving me the shirt of his back. I think he might even be glad that I told Finn the truth about the baby's parentage.

Nonetheless, now, in addition to the usual taunts, people are saying that I'm a scheming home-wrecker. On Jacob Ben-Israel's blog, they're having ongoing debates on whether Noah and I dated for spite, whether Noah told me the truth while we were dating, and whether I told Finn on Noah's behalf, or because I was so desperate to have Finn for myself.

The kids in Glee are nice to my face. They're grateful that my ballad and my leads on "You Can't Always Get What You Want" and "Somebody to Love" helped us clinch Sectionals. They know they need me if they want to do well at Regionals and, God willing, Nationals. Also, we've formed a tentative rapport. The entire ensemble enjoyed arranging, choreographing and performing "My Life Would Suck Without You" for Mr. Shue. Even so, the other singers get quiet when I walk into a room. Yesterday when I walked in to rehearsal, I swear I heard someone call me "troutmouth." I wanted to stomp my foot and storm out, but preparation for Regional competition is more important.

Also, I realize that they are partially correct. I can be overly loquacious, and the things I say sometimes have unintended effects. I even admitted to Quinn that I had hoped she and Finn would break up. That wasn't the only reason I told him, of course. When I first suspected the true parentage of Quinn's baby, I'd made an outline weighing the pros and cons of telling the truth. From studying the list, I had decided to talk to Noah and Quinn, asking them to set the record straight.

Then Finn and I were talking in the hall. He told me how bad things had been, and gave me this beautiful smile. He said he felt like things might finally be good for a while. I couldn't stand it: the hopeful look on his face, the fact that he had been so unhappy for so long, and that he was smiling that smile at me while Quinn lied to him, lived in his house and probably slept in his bed.

I have no idea what I said. The next thing I knew, he ran into the choir room and tackled Noah. I winced every time his fists connected with Noah's face. I almost screamed at the top of my lungs, but a tiny part of me knew that causing that kind of damage to my vocal cords this close to competition was out of the question. The guys managed to stop Finn from driving his fists into Noah's face. Then everyone blamed me for telling. I tried to deny it, but Finn told everyone it was me. I wanted to sink into the floor and disappear.

Why would he tell everyone that? Didn't he know how they would react, how they would treat me? Don't they hate me enough as it is? I realized that Finn wasn't thinking about me at all. He hadn't taken a millisecond to think about what his words would do to me. _Be fair,_ I thought. _He's going through major trauma. Cut Finn some slack._

But then, time passed, and he didn't show up for the bus to sectionals. Finn had abandoned us again. He _knew_ what this competition meant to all of us, and to me. He knew it would bring me one step closer to my lifelong dream of Broadway, but all he cared about was himself. Yes, he showed up at the last second with the perfect song, but when I looked in his eyes, I knew: Finn Hudson had not come back for me.

**AN- I adore comments, so please leave one. I'm also taking requests: who would you like to hear from: Finn, Quinn, Mr. Shue, more Rachel, Puck, another Gleek, or an omniscient narrator? Let me know.  
**


	2. Chapter 2 Puck: Saving the Day

**AN- Noah Puckerman's POV it is! Enjoy!  
**

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Rachel Freakin' Berry. Of course Berry was the one to save the freakin' day. Everyone gives Hudson the credit for showing up and telling everyone what to do, but it was Berry who got us in that room and took care of everything after.

After Mr. Perfect showed up, Berry got her laptop out and found background music for "You Can't Always Get What You Want." She downloaded it, then put it on a USB drive with the music for her ballad. Then, she played the songs and took notes for the lighting dudes.

When the second song started, I had to laugh. "Barbra Streisand?" _Of course she's been working on this song since she was four._

"Noah, you know this song? You know who _Barbra Streisand _is?"

"Hell, yes, I know who that is. I know my Jewish musical icons. Badass or not, if you're a Jew, someone in your family is obsessed with her: your mom, your Bubbe, whatever. It's like a law. _Funny Girl _is Mom's favorite. She won't stop watching the damn thing."

"Noah, language!"

"I'm just glad my mom isn't here to hear you sing this. She'd never forgive me for breaking up with you."

Rachel raised an eyebrow at me. I knew what she was thinking: _I broke up with you, Noah._

"Whatever, Berry. You know what I mean."

She laughed. "Okay," she suddenly yelled at everyone, "I need someone to talk to the lighting technicians. I would do it myself, but I need to focus on mentally preparing for my ballad. Also, I must admit that I'm a tad high-strung right now…"

Peoples' eyes rolled. _Right now? _Her forehead wrinkled up for a second, but she pasted the smile back on. She'd noticed how everyone reacted, but pretended not to. Huh.

"…so I might be a bit too aggressive to be effective. We need someone who can appeal to their sympathy. Tina!"

"Wh-what?" Tina said. Artie looked at her funny. "That one was real! Rachel startled me."

"You would be perfect. Your meek nature makes people want to help and protect you. Your alternative appearance will appeal to their artistic side."

The chick looked scared to death. The more Rachel talked, the smaller Tina seemed to get. I sighed.

"I'll come with you," I said. Tina looked relieved. Rachel gave me this huge smile, the kind she usually just gives Finn. My stomach felt weird. _Where did that come from?_

"Oh, Noah, that's perfect! Let Tina give them this paper and explain the situation. Tina, tell them the notes on the paper are merely suggestions, that we defer to their artistic talents, and we'd appreciate any help they can give us in achieving a fair competition. Finish with your face-to-the-floor-looking-up-through-the-lashes shy smile."

"My what?"

Rachel demonstrated. For a second, she looked just like Tina. It freaked everyone out. "Noah, you'll probably just be moral support, but if they don't respond to Tina, try appealing to them as craftsmen. And if that doesn't work…well, I don't approve of violence, but an intimidating glare may be helpful."

"No problem, Berry. Come on, Chang."

"Um, Cohen-Chang."

So we went up to the booth, and Tina did what Rachel had said. The second Tina did the smile thing, the guys got all mushy or whatever and one of them promised, "We'll come up with something great for your team." Then she gave them a bigger smile, and they looked like they were five and Tina had just given them a puppy. Berry's a freakin' genius. It's a good thing she's such a goody-goody, because if she wasn't, she could take over the world or something.

So, I know some people think Berry told Finn about the baby as part of some plan, but I don't think she did. They think I told her. I wish. If I'd told her, she would have told him months ago. Maybe he'd even be over it by now. Who knows how different things might have turned out. All I know is, someone needed to tell Hudson the truth. I couldn't do it, or my chances with Quinn and the baby would have been shot to Hell, but Berry stepped up and saved the day. It's, like, what she does.

So she went out into the auditorium singing "Don't Rain on My Parade." She sounded just like Barbra…only prettier. When we walked in, I saw my mom and sister in the audience. She must have gotten the day off after all. Mom gave me a look that told me two things: she was in love with Rachel Berry and she was pissed at me for letting Berry go.

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**AN- Please take the time to leave a comment. Thanks for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3 Artie: The View from Here

**AN- A reader requested an Artie POV, so here it is! Mercedes was also requested, so she may be next. Enjoy.**

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I think sometimes, people make life harder than in needs to be.

Tina was shy, so instead of refusing to talk or explaining her problem to a teacher or her friends, she faked a stutter.

When our set list got leaked, there were dozens of songs we had memorized with choreography. Instead, we decided none of them were good enough and did two new songs.

Quinn got pregnant with someone who wasn't her boyfriend, but instead of coming clean, she told Finn some crazy lie about a hot tub. Mercedes told everyone but Finn and Rachel. We all plotted to keep them in the dark, but they found out anyway. Now Finn's mad at Quinn and Puck, and everyone is mad at Rachel.

The thing is, Rachel may be annoying, but she kind of gets it: we would have been better off if everyone had been honest and stopped complicating things. Life is hard enough as it is, especially if you're different from the normal kids. That's why I liked Tina. I thought she knew what it was like to be different in an uncontrollable way. I thought she understood how tough life can be, even when we're not getting in our own ways. It gives you a certain freedom. I can't be like everyone else, so I might as well dress how I want, listen to the music I want, join the clubs I want.

When Tina told me the truth, Dad said, "Haven't you ever heard the term 'crippling shyness?' It's a crude term, but how is extreme shyness less valid as a challenge than a speech impediment?" _Because she can hide it_, I thought._ She can pass for normal. Someday, she might outgrow it entirely, and with every solo she sings, she gets closer to that day. _ Then, everyone will see Tina—how sweet and smart and beautiful she is. She'll forget what life looks like from down here.

On the other hand, Dad said Rachel's solo at Sectionals gave everyone chills, and our Rolling Stones cover was one of the best numbers he's ever seen us perform. "For most of your songs, you connect with the music and each other, but at sectionals, you connected with the music, each other, and all of us in the audience. We felt like part of the performance—like we were up there, with you, in the spotlight."

Maybe complications can make life better sometimes. Maybe what happens with Tina will be the same way. Maybe.

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**AN- Thanks for reading. Please leave a comment. They're such great motivation!**


	4. Chapter 4 Mercedes: Context is Crucial

**AN- This is my first Glee fic.** **I'm thrilled so many of you are reading! **

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"Mercedes, wait," Rachel called. Glee had just ended, and everyone else had already left the choir room. I sighed, but tried to smile. She's been less crazy lately, so I try to be patient with her.

"Yeah, Rachel?"

"I must share a concern with you. Something has been bothering me, and my therapist says I'll only be able to work through it once I discuss it with you."

"With me? Maybe you need a better shrink, Rachel." _So much for patience. _I turned to leave.

"Am I turning you into Kelly?"

I froze and turned to look at her. "Are you _what?"_

"At the beginning of the semester, you proclaimed that you were Beyonce, not Kelly Rowland. Yet at sectionals, you said I was better and gave up the ballad."

"Don't _you _think you're better?"

"Of course," she said. I laughed, because that was classic Rachel Berry. "But I thought…well, I thought you believed_ you_ were better, too, Mercedes. I thought you were like me. I'm sorry."

"For what? For thinking I was anything like you?" I asked. She winced, and I kind of felt bad.

"No, for talking to you the way I did. I've learned that when I discuss my talent, I have to be careful not to hurt people who lack confidence in their abilities. It could be detrimental to their artistic development, not to mention damaging to the glee club as a whole. That's why I always make it clear that my superior singing is not merely genetic, but the result of years of physical, mental and emotional preparation, as well as meticulous training. However, I didn't realize you lacked confidence, so at times I have been communicating with you inappropriately. I thought we were advocating ourselves as…"

"Divas?" I guessed.

"Precisely. But I guess we weren't, in which case, some of what I said to you was quite mean. Context is crucial."

It took me a minute to sort through what she was saying: all the times Rachel claimed her singing was better, she was treating me as an equal. Somehow, things had gotten messed up, though. I'd started to actually believe her.

"I'm going to hug you now," I said, imitating her. Rachel giggled as I embraced her. "Girl, you weren't wrong. We were talking diva-to-diva. I just got lost for a minute. Don't worry, Rachel. The bitch is back."

She gave me that big, Julia Roberts smile, then turned and walked away. "Good," she called over her shoulder. "I look forward to beating you for the next solo."

"Dream on, Crazy!"

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**AN- Please drop a quick review. Although this is my story with the most reads per day, it's not getting many comments. Do you like it, or should I stop doing the chapters from different people's POVs and switch to a third-person narrator? Let me know.  
**


	5. Chapter 5 Kurt: The Mirror

"Hate on me, haters! Sooner or later…" My cell phone wailed, so I answered quickly.

"Mercedes, you are never going to guess what happened to me today!" I exclaimed.

"Oh, no, you do NOT get to go first. I called YOU!"

I sighed. "Fine. What happened to you?" I asked, unable to feign enthusiasm.

"Ms. Rachel Berry tried to give me a apology or a pep-talk or something!"

"SHUT UP! Me, too!"

"No!"

"Yes! She said she was concerned that her confidence had somehow been detrimental to my…something. I got distracted by her outfit and stopped listening. When I gave her that makeover on Quinn's behalf, I managed to throw away the most heinous items in her wardrobe, but she could still do so much better."

Honestly. Skinny jeans are the height of fashion right now, but few women have the legs to look good in them. Rachel does, yet fails to take advantage of the fact. It's almost criminal.

"Kurt, FOCUS!" Mercedes shouted. (I wonder how much I missed.) "Rachel gave me the same speech."

"And here I thought I was special," I said. "Do you think she gave it to everyone?"

"I think she just gave it to us divas."

"'Cedes, you don't think…"

"What?"

"Well…why don't we like Rachel?"

"She's rude, bossy, thinks she's the best at everything, has a loud mouth, and wears weird clothes."

"Right. Well if you replaced 'wears weird clothes' with 'has impeccable fashion sense…'"

"Don't say it, Kurt!"

"Rachel is _us_, but with an inferior wardrobe and more confidence."

"So you're saying we're just…jealous?"

"Actually, I was trying _not _to say it."

"What, you think we should apologize?"

"Oh, god, no. I think we should step up our game and bond, diva-style, a la Lady Marmalade."

"You know that bitch is going to want to be Christina," Mercedes said.

"We all want to be Christina. That's the point."

Mercedes was quiet for a while. "Do you think I should apologize to Finn?" she finally asked.

"For what?" I wondered.

"I told Puck not to tell him the truth."

"I never completely understood that."

"Because some girls stay with awful guys just because they get pregnant. I didn't want that to happen to Quinn. I knew Finn could handle it. He loves Quinn and the baby; you can tell. That's why he's so upset! Since this came out, though, I looked at it from the other side. She didn't give him the choice—him or Puck."

"I think apologizing to Finn right now might stir things up and cause more harm than good. Actually, if you should apologize to anyone, maybe it's Puck," I told her.

"Speaking of Puck, have you heard the rumors about him and Rachel?"

"Heard them? Girl, I've _told_ them. Of course, we know he didn't tell Rachel about being the baby daddy, but did you see them at Sectionals?" I asked.

"I saw her smiling and laughing, first with Finn and later with Puck. How the hell did she manage that?"

"I know! Not only was neither one mad at her, but I think they were both flirting with her."

"So you thought so, too?"

"Yes. Were you as baffled as I was? I mean, who knew you could lure straight boys by singing Streisand? Hmm…perhaps there's hope for me with Finn, after all."

"Oh, sweetie, no. Longing for someone who plays for the other team? That's a recipe for heartbreak—I should know. And you know how bad crying is for your skin."

I sighed. "I know, 'Cedes, but it's 2010. Shouldn't McKinley have a few more hot gays running around?"

"Sweetie, _you_ just managed to come out, and you're a musical-theater-loving diva. It's high school in Ohio. The other hot gays are probably trying to work up the courage as we speak. You know, you're probably helping."

"Me? How?"

"Well, you're out and on the football team, and the guys don't care."

"Well, some of them acted a little weird in the showers, especially at first, but most of them got over it."

"Exactly. Oh, and Kurt?"

"Yeah?"

"The ones who couldn't 'get over it?' If you have to crush on anyone, crush on them."

"You think it's a gay-panic, protest-too-much situation?"

"You know it! Be careful, though. Some of those guys—when they get scared, they can get violent."

"Sometimes it sucks, Mercedes."

"I know."

"I'm not saying I would want to be…that I wouldn't…"

"Of course not…"

"But it's scary sometimes, when people can't see you. Or when they do, and they don't like what they see."

"Kurt, it's not you they don't like. It's the face staring back at them in the mirror."

If anyone would understand, I thought it would be Mercedes, but I guess she doesn't get it either. They hate what they see _in_ the mirror, but they hate the mirror, too.

I'm tired of being the mirror.


	6. Chapter 6 Unconditional

**AN- And now, for a change of pace: Third Person Narrator!**

Rachel looked over her "Glee Club President To-Do List." She had made a lot of headway, and had checked off the following: Create and perform club tribute to Mr. Shue, Research song options for Regionals, Diva pep-talks: Mercedes and Kurt, and Check in with Finn and Puck. She had several still to accomplish, including: Encourage Tina's singing, Encourage Noah's singing, Include Mike and Matt in conversations, and, most important, Check in with Quinn re: living situation.

She dialed Quinn's cell number, but didn't get an answer. She took a deep breath, sighed, and dialed Finn's land line, hoping the boy wouldn't pick up.

"Hello?"

"Mrs. Hudson, hello! This is Rachel Berry."

"Oh, well, Finn's not home right now, Rachel, but if you dial his cell…"

"Actually, Mrs. Hudson, I was hoping to speak to you. Is Quinn still staying with you?"

"Kind of. Her stuff is still here, but she's been spending the night at different friends' houses since just before Sectionals."

"I see," Rachel said. She stopped to think things through, unsure of what to say to Finn's mother. Ever since Babygate blew up in her face, Rachel had tried to be more cautious about how and when she exposed information.

"I'm not going to turn out a single, pregnant girl. On the other hand, I'm worried about Finn, and just seeing her stuff here is hard on him," Mrs. Hudson said.

"I understand," Rachel told her. "I'll take care of it."

"What? I'm not sure that's the best idea."

"I'm just going to make a few calls and present a few options," Rachel said.

"Shouldn't you let an adult handle it?"

"Your first priority needs to be Finn right now. Our school guidance counselor just quit, and Mr. Shue has some family issues he needs to focus on. Most adults would probably put her in foster care, which would not be optimal for Quinn or the baby. If it will make you feel better, I will ask my fathers for their assistance and advice."

There was shocked silence on the other end of the line. Rachel was used to shocking people into silence.

"Thank you, Rachel. Yes, please talk to your dads first."

That night, she sat down to dinner with Dad and Daddy. They already knew the basics of Babygate, but this time she filled them in on everything, beginning to end.

"I propose we take her in," Rachel said.

"Sweetie, you have such a good heart, but are you sure you want to invite the girl who is pregnant by your ex to live with us? Especially when the boy you had a crush on is so angry with them both?"

"Yes, Daddy. Dad, tell him!"

"Rachel, inviting a teenage girl—especially a _pregnant_ teenage girl—to live with us is a huge decision, and we have to examine it carefully. Why do you want her to live here?" Dad asked.

"For one thing, because Finn and Puck both get along with me. Quinn needs support. It will be best for everyone if they can all make up, and there's a better chance of that happening if Quinn is staying someplace neutral. We have a spare room, and we can afford it. Also, I would like to have friends. I think Quinn and I have a lot in common, and if she lived here, we might bond."

"Oh, sweetie," Daddy said, sadly.

"But would it really be the best thing for Quinn?" Dad asked.

"We wouldn't force her to move in," Rachel replied. "We would merely help her examine her options. I think this would be the best place for Quinn for several reasons." She removed a list from the pocket of her skirt. "In addition to those already mentioned: because we weren't friends prior, Quinn wouldn't have to worry that we felt obligated to take her in. I could help her with her vocal training, and she could critique my form in dance. But most importantly, she needs you both. Her parents kicked her out because she couldn't live up to the idea they had of her. She's never had parents who would love her no matter what. I'm sure there are other glee club members whose families might take Quinn in, but I doubt any of them could love her like you could."

Daddy was always a softy, but even Dad got tears in his eyes at that one. And they both knew what it was to be rejected for not living up to someone else's standards.

"Okay," Dad conceded, "We'll give her the option to move in."

"Thank you, Dads!" She whipped out her cell phone.

"Baby, who are you calling?" Dad asked.

"If this is going to happen, I have to tell Finn and Puck," she replied, "and the sooner I get it over with, the better."

**AN- Please take a second to review. Thanks for reading!**


	7. Chapter 7 Finn: What You Can’t Get

_"Don't stop believing…" _I paused the game and answered my phone.

"Hey, Rach. What's up?"

"Actually, I'm calling about something a bit awkward."

"Okay…"

_Awkward like that time I kissed you and ran away,_ I thought, _or awkward like the time I led you on to get you to come back to glee, or…_

"It's about Quinn."

I wanted to throw my phone or scream at Rachel or cry. "I don't want to talk about Quinn."

"I know. That's the point. It's about finding Quinn a place to live so she can move her belongings out of your house."

A bunch of words were, like, fighting in my head, but all I said was, "Whatever."

"My fathers and I will be inviting Quinn to move in with us."

"Damn it, Rach, no!"

"Excuse me?" Her reply was cold and scary.

"I'm sorry, Rachel, but you're, like, the only person I can trust…the only person from school who didn't lie to me and isn't laughing at me or talking about me behind my back. And now you're picking _her,_ after what she did?"

"No. I'm not picking her. Just like when I told you the truth, I am trying to do the right thing. I honestly believe that this is the right thing to do, and in the end, it will be the best decision for all of us. I hope you will give me your blessing, but either way, I will follow through with my decision. I just wanted to be honest and give you advanced warning. If Quinn accepts our offer, I may come by later to pick up her belongings."

"I don't like it, Rach."

"I know. But it's like the song says…"

She wanted me to say it, or maybe even sing it—the song that brought me back to them at Sectionals. But I couldn't.

"Take your time, Finn. Now you'll have some space, too. I'll see you later, okay?"

The words were fighting again, but this time I couldn't even say one.

Rachel sighed, said, "Goodbye, Finn," and hung up.

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**AN- Thanks for reading. Fiftieth reviewer gets to request a one-shot!  
**


	8. Chapter 8 Puck: What You Need

_"Sweet Caroline…"_ my phone sang. I picked it up. "What do you want, Berry?"

Shut up. I just never bothered to change it after we broke up. Besides, when that much crazy is coming at you, it helps to have a warning.

"Hello to you, too, Noah!"

"Seriously, you never call me. What's up?"

"Since Finn found out about you and Quinn, she hasn't had a steady place to stay. Mrs. Hudson said she could remain there, but Quinn is apparently uncomfortable doing so. As her pregnancy continues, a stable environment will be crucial to Quinn's well-being."

"Look, Berry, she barely talks to me. How am I supposed to convince her to move in?"

"You want her to move in? What did your mother say?" Rachel waited for me to answer, but I was kinda embarrassed. "She doesn't know, does she?"

"No. I want to tell her, but my mom can be rough about this stuff." _Like saying I'm a Nazi for dating shiksas. _

"Of course. You need moral support. Say no more, Noah. We'll be there in five minutes."

"We? Who is WE, Berry?" But she'd already hung up. Great. "We" could mean anything from Rachel and Quinn to the whole glee club. You never knew with her.

Exactly five minutes later, Rachel rang my doorbell. Standing behind her were her dads. My mom was psyched to see them. She knows Rachel's dads from Temple. Mom spent the first few minutes raving over Rachel's solo at Sectionals. "Weeping! I was weeping in the audience. And to think, you used to go out with my Noah!" She gave me a dirty look as she said "used to."

"Thank you, Mrs. Puckerman. I'm glad you were moved to tears by my performance. That is one of the highest complements a performer can receive. However, we are here today because we need to discuss a serious matter."

"Oh, God, she's pregnant," Mom said.

"Yes," Rachel said, not getting which "she" my mom meant. "And now we're exploring our options."

"He'll marry you, of course! Won't you, Noah? Thank God you're Jewish. Oh, my son's going to marry a smart, beautiful Jew!"

"What?" Rachel's dads said, shocked.

"WHAT?" Rachel yelped.

"Mom," I groaned, "Rachel is not pregnant." I could tell from the look on Mom's face that she was picturing the white dress and the huppah in her head. "We never even had sex! Rachel isn't pregnant. Quinn is!"

"Finn's girlfriend? I already knew that."

"Yeah, but…the baby? It isn't Finn's. It's mine."

"Oh, Noah!" She started to scream at me and I just tuned her out. I was mainly focusing on trying not to cry in front of Rachel and her dads.

"MS. PUCKERMAN!" Rachel exclaimed, using her impressive pipes. "I apologize for interrupting, but from my interactions with Noah, I can assure you: he is quite contrite and is handling his mistake as responsibly as possible. Recriminations are not constructive at this point."

Wow. I can't believe Berry is standing up to my mom. From the look on Mom's face, she can't believe it, either.

Rachel's black dad cleared his throat. (Man, I need to learn their first names.) "Mrs. Puckerman, I don't blame you for being upset. I know how distraught we would be if Rachel were in a similar situation. But now Quinn finds herself without a set place to live. We are going to offer Quinn a room at our house. However, Puck expressed to Rachel that he would like to make a similar offer." And I now understand why Berry talks the way she does. "That's when he admitted that he had not yet told you the truth and wanted our assistance to do so."

Is that honestly what Rachel thinks happened?

Mom sighed. "Her parents really kicked her out? Who does that to their baby?" Okay, I guess that means Mom isn't kicking me out. "Do you love her, Noah?"

"I thought I was in love with her, but…she keeps saying I'm a loser. How do you love someone who sees you like that?" That definitely didn't win any points with my mom for Quinn. I didn't mean to say it, but I'm so sick of lying.

"If you feel that way, why would you want her to live here?" she asked.

"Because I'm still responsible for them. I still care about her. You don't walk out on people. You just don't do that." My voice broke when I said it, like I was back in freakin' junior high.

And then mom surprised me. She hugged me. "Oh, Noah. Some people do, but you don't. Thank God."

"So, can Quinn live here?"

"She can if she wants to. But she gets your room and you sleep on the couch."

"Fine."

Rachel tried calling Quinn again, still getting no answer, so Rachel dialed Brittany. "Hello, Brittany. It's Rachel Berry. How are you? Mmm-hmm. And how is Quinn? She hasn't been answering her cell phone. Oh, that's too bad. Brittany, is Quinn moving in with you permanently? Well, no, I don't mean after graduation. How do your parents feel about that?" Berry was silent, listening to Brittany's response. "Well, that's just it: Quinn does have other options. We'd like to come by and discuss it with her, if she's up to it. Would you mind asking her?" Berry waited again. "Good. We'll see you in five to ten minutes. Goodbye."

"Her father shut off her cell phone. Brittany assures me Quinn is open to our visit."

Yeah, well, I heard Berry's side of that phone conversation. Quinn had no idea who "we" were. I sympathized with Quinn's position, 'cause I was there half an hour ago. And half an hour from now, Quinn and my baby might be living under my roof…or Berry's. Weird. Either way, I'm going to keep trying. I'll show her that I'm no loser. I take care of my responsibilities. I take care of my friends. I might not be in love with her, but I could be her friend.

I know I haven't been the best friend to people in the past, but I want to be. I want to be a better…everything. God, now I sound like Berry.

_I just want everything so much, _she'd told me the day we broke up on the bleachers.

I knew what she meant then, but every day since I've understood it even more. It's like that time I fell in the deep end when I was little. I kept sinking under the water, but every time, no one saw it. I just kept fighting to get my head up to scream. I was sure I was a gonner when the lifeguard finally noticed and pulled me out.

I just hope St. Finn's song is right, because I could really use some help in this. All I need is for someone to see me and pull me out of the deep end. I keep trying, hoping I just might get what I need. I felt a tiny hand squeeze mine, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"Are you ready for this?" Rachel asked.

**AN- Want to know what happens next? Please review.**


	9. Chapter 9 Quinn: What Everyone Deserves

**An- ****So I was going to try to be one of those writers who refuses to post until she receives a certain number of reviews. But I decided I cared more about writing the story and getting it to you than just getting reviews. That said, more reviews would rule. **

**It's a cliche that authors often write on this site, but it's true: I actually cried a little while writing this. That's never happened to me with fiction before. I hope you like it. Please take time to review after reading.**

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"Dammit, Britt!"

"What? I asked if you were up to visitors, and you said you were."

"I thought you meant Santana or something, not Rachel Berry and…well, whoever 'we' is."

"I'm sorry. I'll call her back and tell her no. I'll fix it."

I sighed, feeling bad. The funny thing about Brittany is that one minute she's an icy bitch, defacing old glee photos in the yearbook or critiquing an ugly outfit, and the next she's warm and bubbly, hugging a gleek or saving a baby bird that fell out of its nest. ("Usually you should leave fledglings there," she'd told me, "but this big orange cat was going to eat it.") "No, sweetie, it's fine. I'll talk to Rachel and whoever. I'm sorry I yelled at you."

She smiled, hugged me and went to make hot chocolate for our visitors.

When the doorbell rang, I opened the door and my jaw dropped, because I never in a million years would have guessed that _this _was who Rachel had meant by "we." It was Rachel and Puck, Rachel's dads and Puck's mom. I'd never met her, but I'd seen her in the stands at football games, sitting with Mrs. Hudson. Mrs. Puckerman's eyes were teary.

"Hello. Won't you all come in?"

Rachel's dads introduced themselves, and Mrs Puckerman couldn't stop staring at my belly.

"I'm sorry, dear. May I?"

"Um, sure," I said. I needed to get used to it. My sister says in her experience, people will ask to do this more and more as the pregnancy progresses. She put her hands on my stomach, and then she, like, beamed at me! I realized my mother had never done this. Would never do this. I know this baby isn't really mine. I'm giving her away. Still, I'm pregnant for the first time. It should be _my_ mom with her hands on my belly. I started to cry a little. God, how embarrassing.

"Why don't you all sit down while Quinn and I seek out Brittany," Rachel said, as if she owned the place. Once we were out of the room, she pulled a pack of tissues from her purse and handed me one. "Would you like a hug?"

"No," I lied.

"Take a moment to collect yourself. I'll find Brittany and her parents."

"Wait! Rachel, what is going on?"

"We want you to live with us."

"You and your dads?"

"Yes, but all of us want you to live with us. Dads and I, Noah and his mom, and Brittany and her parents. We're here to give you your options. I'll be right back."

The second she was gone, I shut myself into the bathroom to cry. This morning I thought no one wanted me, but now I had three places to stay? I splashed my face with cold water. It didn't make my eyes less red; it just made the rest of my face pinker. At least it all sort of matched. A few minutes later, we were all in the living room, and everyone was, like, giving me these sales pitches about why I should live with them.

"Okay, you don't even like them. Sorry," Brittany said to Rachel and Puck. "Sorry, but it's the truth. I'm your best friend, so you should stay with me. There's enough room, and Mom and Dad don't mind, do you?"

"No," Brittany's mom said. "If you need a place to stay, you can stay here."

"Look I know you don't like me," Puck said, "But it's my baby, too. I'm responsible for you both, and I… I care about you, okay? I'd take good care of you. I'll sleep on the couch and you can have my room. You can even redecorate it, or whatever. I'd give you whatever you need." His mother nodded, smiling encouragingly.

I was shocked by Puck's offer. Then Rachel cleared her throat.

"Now I would like to make my proposal." She pulled out an actual list. It wasn't even hand-written: she had typed it on the computer! She talked about how I wouldn't feel obligated, because we weren't friends. How we could help each other with Glee. About how her dads would love me, no matter what.

"Love me? They don't even know me."

"Everyone needs and deserves love," Rachel's "daddy" said. "Once you really learn that, loving people is easy and hating them is hard."

This explained why Rachel was nice to me and to Puck, even though we'd been so mean to her. My face crumpled up and got all hot. I could feel tears in my eyes, and Brittany put an arm around me. God, my parents are dumb. I wondered if they could still believe the things they did if they knew Rachel's dads. How could anyone so kind possibly be bad?

"Rachel, sweetie, you skipped an important reason," he said.

"Daddy!" Rachel exclaimed. She looked mortified.

"No, he's right, baby," the other Mr. Berry added. "You're being a hypocrite. You want Quinn to put aside her pride and let us help her, yet you're too proud to do the same?"

"Fine," Rachel huffed, then stared at her feet. I've never seen her look so shy. "I want to have friends, and if you move in, we might become friends."

My "Mean Girls" side wanted to sneer at Rachel. Another part of me, though, wanted to punch the hateful part of me in the nose.

"Okay," I said.

"Okay, what?" Puck asked.

"Okay, I'll move in with Rachel."

"Seriously?" Brittany asked.

"Seriously. Look, I love you, Britt, and I really appreciate you letting me stay here. Puck, I appreciate the offer, but it would be awkward, and I don't want to kick you out of your room. At Rachel's house, it won't just be charity." The Berrys even looked _happy_ that I picked them. They came over to hug me. I was about to start crying, so I pulled away and used my bitch voice: "Can we take it a little bit slower, please?"

"Of course, sweetie! We're a huggy family, and I sometimes forget that not everyone is accustomed to it!" Rachel's Daddy said.

Rachel had her biggest smile on. "Shall I help you pack?"

"Um, Quinn?" Puck said. "I still want to help. With, like, bills and stuff. And I want to be friends."

_Seriously?_ "Rachel, I can do my own packing. Puck…you can help, sometimes, but I'd still rather do most things on my own." He looked mad, but nodded.

"How about this: Quinn, you go pack here," Rachel said. "I'll go back to Finn's and get your belongings from there. I can also go to your parents' house, if you need anything from there. Noah, you can come by the house later so we can establish a plan for the future."

"Rachel you and your…" _gay dads "_…dads can't go to my parents' house! It would be a disaster. My parents, they…I'm sorry."

Her dad spoke up. "You never have to be sorry for someone else's mistakes. Do you feel the way they do?"

"No!"

"Then you have nothing to feel bad about. Don't worry. We're adults. We can handle it. Frankly, we need to talk to your parents, anyway, about insurance and some other issues. Rachel tells me you're in debt from going to the doctor, but you're likely still covered under your parents' insurance. If they refuse to cover you, the state offers assistance, or perhaps we can adopt you, so you'll be covered on our policy."

"We just met!"

"Daddy" took my hands and looked in my eyes like he was trying to find something. For a minute, I was so scared that he wouldn't find it. He'd realize that I was right: that taking me in was crazy. That deciding to love me was crazy. Then, he nodded and said, "Rachel believes you should be part of our family, and we trust her judgment."

"God, no wonder Berry's a freak! Who are you people?" I asked, but this time, even Bitch Quinn couldn't keep from crying.

"Oh, sweetie," Rachel's daddy said, wrapping his arms around me. Rachel's dad did, too. Call them freaks and they hug you. This explains so much about Rachel Berry. I used to think she was just a masochist or something.

"I'm fine," I sniffled. Then I straightened my spine and tried again, more forcefully: "Seriously. I'm fine."

They stepped back.

"Well, I guess I'll go pack. Rachel, I'll make you a list…" I swear, her face lit up when I said _list_ "of things I need from Finn's place and my parents' house…if they let you in. I only had a half-hour to grab stuff, and there are some things I'd like to have. If they won't let you, though, don't worry about it."

"Why don't I bring Quinn to your house when she's ready?" Puck asked.

"Good idea, Noah," Rachel replied. Then she got out her phone. "Hello, Finn. I'm coming over to get Quinn's belongings. Yes, she has. Look, if you'd like to better understand my reasoning, I've compiled a list. Finn, I stand by my decision. It will be best for her, best for me, and even best for you. I'm sorry you feel that way. Nonetheless, my dads and I will be coming by in a few moments. Goodbye, Finn."

Puck was giving her a funny look. "I think it will be best for you, too, Noah, though I doubt Finn is ready to hear me say so. This is all going to work out," she said, and squeezed his hand. He relaxed a little. Hmm…

I handed her a piece of paper with one list for each location.

"Great," she exclaimed, grinning. "I'll see you at home!" She bounded out of the room, her fathers following behind her, calling out goodbyes to me.

"Now you have to let me help," Puck said, "Or else Berry will drive you crazy."

"Shut up, _Noah_," I teased. "You know you like her."

"In small doses, sure, but you're going to _live_ with her. Your life's going to be all gold stars and show tunes."

And people who don't know how _not_ to love someone.

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**AN- Daddy's philosophy is how my family raised me, especially my awesome mom. I hope this chapter meant something to you. Please take a moment to review.**

**P.S. Lots of you have expressed envy of my family. Thank you! I am truly blessed to have them. I just hope when/if you have a family of your own, you'll teach _your_ kids that everyone needs and deserves love. From experience I can tell you that sometimes bullies will mistake this philosophy for weakness, but you survive, with your heart open and your conscience clean. In my life, the joy of loving everyone has, by far, outweighed the challenges. Pass it on.**

**P.P.S. At Freaktonight's helpful suggestion, I've heavily revised Chapter 1. Feel free to check it out and let me know what you think of the new, (hopefully) improved first chapter.**


	10. Chapter 10 Choices Made

**AN- It's a mini-chapter!  
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After considerable effort, Rachel's fathers convinced her that they should divide their efforts. They would go to the Fabray house, and she would go to Finn's. They claimed it was for the sake of expedience, but Rachel suspected that was not the case. Perhaps they feared she wouldn't be tactful with Quinn's parents, but more likely they didn't want her to be there if Quinn's parents said anything ugly.

Luckily, when the couple arrived at the Fabray house, Mr. Fabray wasn't home. Mrs. Fabray looked both ways, as though afraid someone might see them, and invited the men in. They stood awkwardly in the foyer.

"We're here about Quinn," one of the men began.

"Is she okay?"

"Is she _okay?" _Rachel's daddy replied incredulously. "Of course she's n…"

"Physically, she is fine," Rachel's dad interrupted. Scaring Mrs. Fabray or making her feel defensive wasn't going to help their case. He carefully outlined the situation: that Quinn had been moving from place to place, but would now be living at the Berry residence; that Quinn would like some of her belongings; that they needed to know whether Quinn was still covered under the Fabray insurance.

"She's still covered. Take whatever she wants, as long as it's not…noticeable. Thank you for taking care of her."

This softened the Berrys. Rachel's Daddy reached out to take Mrs. Fabray's hand, but she shied away.

"Just hurry, please."

They complied, packing each thing on Quinn's list. When they left, Mrs. Fabray handed them a bag and an insurance card. The bag held a stuffed animal and a baby blanket.

"She would never ask for these, but she might want them."

"Mrs. Fabray, are you sure this is what you want?" Rachel's dad asked. "It doesn't have to be like this. You could bring her home, or at least come to see her."

"I can't. I just can't. She made her choices, and…we've made ours."

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**AN- So sad. Comments are always appreciated.  
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	11. Chapter11 Finn:What You Can't Throw Away

**AN- ****Sorry about the delay! My apartment flooded. Sigh. But I'm back, with more chapters coming at you ASAP. **  


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I was getting massacred. After I got Rachel's second phone call, I was in the mood to do some damage, so I decided to play a video game—one of the bloody ones that makes my mom yell about de-sensitive-ing me to violence or something. Usually, they calm me down, but today I was getting killed over and over really fast, so it was making me madder instead. Then the doorbell rang. I quit the game and went downstairs. When I opened the door, Rachel rushed past me before I could even say, "Hi." She was talking really fast, and I was, like, too far behind to catch up.

"Rachel!" I interrupted.

"Yes?" she replied, all puzzled, looking up from a list.

"I didn't get any of what you just said."

"Oh, Finn!" she said, and hugged me, wrapping her arms around me. She's so tiny, but her arms are really strong. I wanted to hug her just as hard, and maybe put my hands in her hair, but I could feel that she was already moving away. "I was just saying that I know you have your doubts about this arrangement, but I think it's going to work out. You and Quinn and Noah will work through your anger. I don't buy Velma Kelly's claim in "Chicago" that in show business, hatred among coworkers is "no problem at all." Hatred requires energy—energy that might better be used on perfecting vocals and choreography. Besides, we were all becoming friends, and that rapport served us well."

"Wrapper? Rach…" I was going to ask her what that meant, but I was too tired, so I flopped down on the couch.

At first, the problem with liking Rachel was that I had a girlfriend, a pregnant girlfriend. Even if I hadn't had a girlfriend when I joined Glee, though, I probably wouldn't have asked her out—not at first. She was all intense, and the guys on the football team would have made fun of me. Now I'm single, and I don't care what anyone thinks about Rachel, but she's so smart. She never _tries_ to make me feel dumb, but when I'm with her, I just _do_.

Rachel being so smart never bothered me before, but now everyone knows about Quinn, and how I believed that stupid hot tub story. It feels like that day in second grade when that jerk Steve Johnson figured out that the Cardinals were the best readers, the Robins were in the middle, and the Bluebirds were slow, and he announced it at recess. Being a Bluebird sucked.

Rachel was rushing around, putting Quinn's stuff into a cardboard box. She was singing to herself, that "Annie" song about hanging on until tomorrow. I could hear it, no matter where she was in the house. I just lay there on the couch, listening to her voice get louder and softer as she moved close and then away again. Then it stopped. I opened my eyes and Rachel was bent over me, about to touch me. Part of me wanted to reach up and slide my hand into her hair, pull her down and kiss her until I forgot about everything else, but she looked startled and straightened up.

"Oh, Finn, I was about to wake you! I'm done gathering Quinn's things. Can you help me take them to the car?"

When she said Quinn's name, it felt like when the shower runs out of hot water. I shrugged and stood up, then grabbed the box while Rachel held the door. It wasn't that much stuff. It seemed like more when it was spread out, though. Like Quinn had left it everywhere to torture me: "Remember when I looked so cute in this sweater? Remember taking this barrette out of my hair? Remember when you thought I loved you?"

I don't know why, but while putting the box in the car, I grabbed the hair clip and put it in my pocket when Rachel wasn't looking. It had flat white plastic flowers and was the kind little girls wear, but looked pretty in Quinn's hair. _God, I'm such a…_

"Finn, are you okay?"

_If wanting to either bawl like a baby or rip the door off your car is "okay," then, yeah, I'm okay._ I just kinda nodded at her.

"Well, when you're ready to talk about it, call me or text or IM or come over. You're welcome at any time."

I nodded again.

"Goodbye, Finn." She gave me another hard hug, like she was trying to squeeze all the sad out of me. It was even harder not to cry then, but I managed not to while she drove away. There it all went: Rachel Berry and all that was left of me and Drizzle and Quinn Fabray.

I cried later when I put my hand in my pocket and felt the stupid plastic hair clip. I tried to throw it away then, but I couldn't.

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**AN- Thanks for reading. Please leave a comment. They're such great motivation!**


	12. Chapter 12 Rachel: Blessing

**AN- Thanks for reading! **

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Part of me wanted to stay with Finn and make sure he was okay, but I had a new list in my pocket of things I needed to do before Quinn arrived to our house, and I knew she and Noah might be waiting when I got there. Luckily, when I got to the house, I saw Dad and Daddy's cars in the garage, but Noah's truck wasn't in the driveway. I struggled to open the door with Quinn's box in my arms, but managed and rushed up the stairs.

"Daddy's already up there," Dad called. Good! That meant we were on the same page. I put the box on the floor of the guest room. Daddy was already making the bed with fresh white sheets. I nodded my approval and went to my room.

"Sweetie, where are you going?"

"Decor, Daddy! I think she likes daisies." I did a quick Google for public domain black-and-white pictures of daisies and made 8x10 prints of the ones I thought Quinn would like. At the last moment, I printed a few other, smaller pictures. I whisked the framed images off the guest room's cheery, yellow walls and swapped in the new pictures, then changed the photographs in the bedside frames. Daddy lit a candle that smelled lightly of lemondrops and arranged Quinn's belongings artfully. I had just gotten the last picture on the wall when I heard a noise behind me.

"How did you do this? When?"

It was Quinn. In all the excitement, Daddy and I hadn't heard her arrive. I smiled at the expression on her face as she looked around the room. It had always had yellow walls, which was lucky, since I was pretty sure yellow was Quinn's favorite color. The quilt on the bed was white and without frills, but the accent pillows were the color of lemon sherbet. The black-and-white daisy pictures looked quite nice on the walls. Daddy had arranged a baby blanket and a stuffed animal in the white armchair in the corner. I had placed two framed 4x6 pictures on her bedside table: one from MySpace of Quinn, Brittany and Santana, arm-in-arm in their Cheerios uniforms, and one of the group Glee photograph for the yearbook. (I'd convinced the photographer to give me digital copies so that I could help him select the optimal image for the Thunderclap.)

"Was I right? Are daisies your favorite?"

Quinn nodded, and her eyes looked kind of teary. "It's perfect."

"Don't worry, darling, it was no trouble at all," Daddy added.

Quinn nodded and her face changed, the same way it did just before she asked me to leave after I apologized for telling Finn about the baby.

"Would you like help unpacking, or would you like a moment to settle in?" I asked.

"A moment would be good," she said, staring at the blanket and plush animal. "Where did those come from?"

"Honey, your mom thought you would want them," Daddy said.

"Oh." Her face crumpled, and she couldn't hold back the tears.

"Rachel, Sweetie, why don't you go down and say hello to Noah?" he said. I nodded, and as I turned to go, I saw my daddy put his arms around Quinn and give her a big hug. She was stiff for a second before sobbing into his shoulder. Daddy is really good at that—hugging the sadness right out of a person.

"Jeez, Berry, do I hear Quinn crying? What did you do to her?" Noah was teasing, but he actually sounded a little worried, too, so I gave him a Daddy-style hug.

"Don't worry, Noah. She's okay. Teenage girls must deal with a surge of hormones, and pregnancy creates an even greater surge. Add to that Quinn's recent personal turmoil and the stress of moving, and a good cry is more than justified."

"I was just kidding, Berry. Hell, _I_ feel like crying."

Again, from his voice I could tell that he was only half-joking. Then Dad cleared his throat and I realized I was still squeezing Noah. He had one hand tangled in my hair, and we were rocking back and forth a little, almost like a slow-dance. My face felt unusually warm. I stepped away from him and straightened my shoulders. "Noah, have you met my father, Alexander Berry?"

Dad chuckled for some reason, so I shot him a dirty look. "Rachel, I introduced myself when he and Quinn arrived."

"Oh, of course. I guess we should start supper. Noah, can I get you a snack?"

"Sure, Berry. Whatever you've got."

I provided an apple in case he needed fiber or carbohydrates, and a bowl of nuts in case he needed protein. I also provided him with a glass of water, and got one for myself. My phone beeped as Dad and I were boiling water for pasta on the stove. I saw it was a text from Finn: "Tomatos, fish & smell of eggs make Q sick & she shouldn't drink diet pop eat soft cheese sushi mercury-fish or deli meat. Thought u should know."

"Dad, let's make Fettuccini Alfredo instead of spaghetti. Quinn can't handle tomatoes right now."

"Dude, was that Finn?" Noah asked.

I rolled my eyes at being addressed as "dude."

"Yes," I replied. "He texted me a list of food that makes Quinn nauseated, as well as foods that are unsafe for pregnant women to consume." Noah smiled and shook his head.

"Good old Saint Finn."

I texted back, "Thank you! I researched what foods are safe to eat during pregnancy, but I didn't know about which foods bothered Q. That was very thoughtful, Finn!"

He didn't reply.

When Quinn and Daddy came downstairs, we were still cooking. Quinn eyed the pasta pot on the stove and asked, nervously, "What are we having?"

"Fettuccini Alfredo," Dad announced.

"Oh, good! I was afraid you were going to say spaghetti. I can't handle marinara right now."

"We know," Noah said.

Before he could say anything to tease her, I stated, "Finn alerted me about tomatoes, fish and eggs. Have any other foods or odors been giving you nausea?"

"He did?" Quinn's face looked very hopeful.

"Yes, he did. I didn't even ask him," I said, hoping to reassure her. Quinn gave me a questioning look.

"Rachel, can we talk?"

"Of course!" We walked into the living room, leaving three baffled men in the kitchen.

"What are you doing, Ma—" she stopped herself from saying man-hands. "Rachel? I thought you wanted Finn. Look, if we're going to live together, we need to get this out in the open."

"Agreed. Okay," I paused and took a deep breath. "While you and Finn were together, he and I kissed twice: once before I knew you were pregnant when I was trying to show him what I have to offer, and once when he wanted me to come back to Glee. That time, he wanted me in Glee so he could get a better scholarship to take care of you and Drizzle."

"Oh, no. The name is sticking."

"Sorry." 

She sighed. "Don't feel bad. I've started thinking of her as Drizzle, too. It's a terrible name, but I haven't thought of a better one. Actually, I was trying not to name her at all."

I nodded, understanding, and continued. "Anyway, I have since realized that although Finn and I share unusual chemistry, he does not feel for me what he feels for you. He doesn't see me the way I need to be seen."

"That's ironic," Quinn said.

I wondered whether she was going to use "ironic" correctly.

She continued, "I joined New Directions because I thought Finn didn't notice _me_ anymore. After he joined Glee, I'd see him looking at you. That first time you guys sang 'Don't Stop Believing' in the auditorium? I was standing in the back watching, and he's never looked at me like that."

"For a while, it fooled me, too," I told her. "A little of that look may have been for me, but I think he was really in love with singing— doing what he was _meant_ to be doing in the way he was meant to do it." I thought hard for a second, to be sure I was right, then proceeded: "He still loves you, Quinn. You'll get him back."

She raised an eyebrow at me and nodded resolutely. Then she smirked and tilted her head toward the kitchen. "And you have my blessing, Rachel."

Then she strolled out of the room. I composed myself the best I could and returned to my curious dads and Noah.

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**AN- I write poetry and nonfiction for a living, but I have trouble with fiction. Any feedback on what you like/what I could improve would be very helpful. Thank you!  
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	13. Chapter 13 Visions

**AN- Sorry, guys! For a minute there, I posted the wrong draft! Here's the correct version. **

Rachel Berry had always thought she was a little bit psychic. She would have weird dreams, visions or flashes of intuition, and they would come true. Her daddies told her it was merely her advanced intelligence—it allowed her to pick up on and process minute clues around her—but Rachel had known it was something more. Until recently, that is. Recently, her dreams had been crazy, and she had been repeatedly blindsided by life.

She kept dreaming that she was a little girl, and she had a mother who looked just like her. They were dancing and singing together on a stage with a blinding spotlight. Holding her mother's hand and singing made Rachel's heart feel full and happy, until her mother tripped her. Rachel would fall onto the stage and cry. Her mother looked sad, but just watched as her little girl cried, sprawled in the spotlight's glare. Rachel woke with that tingling feeling she got before a dream came true, but Rachel didn't even _have_ a mother, so the feeling made no sense.

Nights she didn't dream about her nonexistent mother, she dreamt about Noah. In those dreams, he held her hand as they walked down the halls at school. He sang to her and did things that made Rachel blush the next morning at breakfast. Those dreams also gave Rachel the fateful feeling, but they couldn't be right!

When Quinn had first moved in with the Berries, Rachel had been sure Quinn and Finn would get back together and she would be with Puck. Instead, the chasm between Quinn and Finn had grown, and for the first time, Rachel saw the spark between the mohawked "stud" and the former president of the chastity club.

Puck still flirted with other girls and teased Quinn about getting fat, while Quinn called him a loser and a slut, but the affection between them was clear, and it was growing. Rachel would see Puck rubbing Quinn's feet, caressing her belly, or singing to the fetus. Quinn would try to play it off, rolling her eyes, but Rachel could tell the blond was touched as she played with Puck's mohawk. Rachel felt a twinge of jealousy, but she was also happy for the family-to-be, and decided to move on from her dreams of Noah.

Besides, Rachel had Finn. Since sectionals, she had made it a point to hang out with the moping boy to cheer him up. Hanging out had eventually shifted to _going _out. One day, Finn looked at Rachel like she was his whole world. Then he smiled a big, pure smile and kissed her. That was the day Rachel knew Finn was her boyfriend.

Finally, Rachel had possessed everything she ever wanted. She had friends (Noah and Quinn), the perfect boyfriend (Finn Hudson: quarterback, captain of the basketball team and male lead of New Directions), and a choir that was on the rise. Rachel basked in the warm happiness of goals achieved.

Rachel brushed it off when she saw how Finn gazed at Quinn in the halls or in glee practice. It gave her a funny feeling, but she told herself it was just jealousy. She tried not to feel crushed when Finn looked embarrassed as she cheered for him during a basketball game, or when he stood her up for a few dates. _He has a lot on his mind. Grief and depression can affect memory, and at his best Finn is a bit absent-minded. _Instead of getting angry, she'd made Finn a calendar to help him remember their dates.

Then, out of nowhere, he broke up with her. She'd had no visions, no dreams that this was coming. Rachel responded to the breakup by informing Finn of his obvious motivations, and told him why his choice was a mistake. "It's like you're in my head right now," Finn had replied, looking scared, but he was transparent. Rachel knew it didn't take extrasensory perception to understand the inner workings of Finn Hudson.

Maybe she wasn't so special. Maybe the past dreams that came true were coincidences or self-fulfilling prophecies. Maybe her clear, sure visions of a Broadway future were just ordinary dreams, like anyone else's. That's what Rachel Berry was pondering as she flipped through a stack of music, only to be shocked again by life in the form of Jesse St James, male lead of Vocal Adrenaline.

**AN:**** Don't worry: the Puckleberry Train is not permanently derailed. It's just delayed a bit. ****I'm trying to mash together what happened in "Hell-o" with what I'd been planning in my head. I'm still trying to figure out how AU I'm going to have to go. Wish me luck!**


	14. Chapter 14 Tina: Bridges You've Crossed

I heard her before I even opened the door to the auditorium. Rachel was up on stage in a cute red plaid skirt and a black shirt. I could see myself wearing the same outfit, only with fishnets instead of white tights, and black combat boots instead of black patent leather flats. She was singing a song I didn't recognize a capella, and even though she's even smaller than I am, she seemed to fill the stage. Wanting to learn to do that, I pulled out my cell phone and began recording her performance.

Rachel was singing about how she couldn't be happier, but I'd never heard her sound so sad. Then, a new verse started, with words that were closer to the look on her face:

_"…getting your dreams—it's strange, but it seems a little, well, complicated. There's a kind of a sort of: cost. There's a couple of things get: lost. There are bridges you cross you didn't know you crossed until you've crossed."_

By then, she was belting in a way that made the hairs on my arms stand on end. Even Rachel Berry's heartbreak is better than mine—worthy of more attention. When Mr. Shue gave me the solo on "Tonight," I was happy, but guilty, too. I wanted the solo, but I knew she could sing it better. Rachel sang better, danced better, and three of the hottest boys in school had liked her at one point or another. On top of that, Rachel Berry always said whatever she wanted, no matter how much people teased her.

Part of me used to hate her for it, but one day in glee, Santana and Quinn made some mean comments, and when no one else was looking, Rachel's smile slipped for a second. Her chin trembled. Then she took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and smiled even bigger and brighter. I realized that Rachel was the one person who hid as much as I did. Half of her smiles were as fake as my stutter.

_"And if that joy, that thrill, doesn't thrill like you think it will…"_

Rachel gazed out into the seats of the auditorium, not seeing me, and gathered herself, pasting on that brightest happy face— the one that she uses when she's saddest (like after getting slushied, or when she used to see Finn and Quinn kiss).

_"Still, with this perfect finale, the cheers and ballyhoo, who wouldn't be happier? So I couldn't be happier, because happy is what happens when all your dreams come true. Well, isn't it? Happy is what happens when your dreams come true!"_

I wondered what she saw when she looked out at the empty seats? The Broadway theaters she dreamed of singing in? Fans? The kids who tortured her? Maybe she just saw what was there—empty seats—but I doubted it.

Then her phone rang. She picked it up from where it sat on her rolly-bag, looked at it, and her whole body sagged. With that, she looked tiny again, swallowed up by the big stage. I stopped recording as she quickly packed up her things and turned to go. I wanted to call out to Rachel, to tell her what I'd seen and ask her what was wrong. Was it Finn trying to get her back? Had something gone wrong with Quinn as a room mate or Jesse as a boyfriend? But my words got lost.

After she was long gone, I slowly climbed the stairs to the stage. I set up my laptop to play the backing track and stepped center stage. I watched the video I'd just taken of Rachel. Then, I tried to do what she did: make myself big enough to fill the stage. I wanted to show as much emotion as she did, so I concentrated on the day when I sat on the piano bench while Artie apologized for trying to get me to change—that moment when I knew that he'd forgiven me for faking my stutter, and he wasn't going to punish me anymore. I was tired of pretending not to love him, and I could tell he felt the same way about me. I could feel myself expand as I sang. With every word, I felt bigger and bigger, like I was my voice, filling the whole room.

_"Today, all day I had the feeling a miracle would happen. I know now I was right… For here you are, and what was just a world is a star… Tonight!" _

This time, I hit the note perfectly. I finally deserved the solo, and I couldn't wait to show Mr. Shue and the rest of the glee club. The weird part was, though, that Rachel might be jealous, but she'd also be happy for me. She'd be happy about what it meant for the club. I couldn't get the words she'd sung out of my head: "_There's a kind of a sort of: cost. There's a couple of things get: lost. There are bridges you cross you didn't know you crossed until you've crossed."_ Before today, I'd always worried about the bridges I couldn't force myself to walk over. Now I wondered how many bridges I'd crossed just by standing still. I quickly grabbed my phone and dialed.

"Hey, it's Tina. Listen, I'm worried about Rachel."

**AN- Rachel's singing excerpts from "Thank Goodness" from _Wicked. _Who should Tina call to help her find out what's wrong with Rachel, and perhaps embark on some matchmaking?**


	15. Chapter 15 Brittany: Unspoken Rules

**AN- You asked for it, Gleeek, you got it: a Brittany chapter! Thanks for reading, everyone, and for all the favorites and story alerts! Makes me feel loved. **

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"Hello?"

"Hey, it's Tina. Listen, I'm worried about Rachel."

"Rachel kind of makes my head hurt," I said.

It was like there were two Rachels, and one of them was pretty and smiley, and her singing would make my whole self feel all light and happy, and when we were both dancing, I could understand her and she could understand me. After we dance in Glee or in our ballet class, I sometimes have to give her a big hug, because we're just so happy.

But the other Rachel talks so fast and uses big words, and I just feel so dumb. But she's kind of dumb, too, because she can't follow the rules. Well, she follows the out-loud rules—the ones parents and teachers tell you out loud. But she doesn't get the secret rules of how to be cool or be friends with people. Like you don't date a guy, break up with him, then date his best friend. You don't admit out loud that you wear a training bra or like The Wiggles (even if you really do in secret). You don't wear whatever you want, or admit how much you want things. That's not cool. And Rachel's supposed to be all smart or whatever? But she breaks all those rules, and never gets why people don't like her?

I asked Santana if I should _teach_ her the rules, because sometimes I do dumb stuff, but if people show me how to do it right, I can fix it.

Santana had rolled her eyes: "No, sweetie. Then _you'd _be breaking the rules."

So when Tina called wanting me to help Rachel, I didn't know what to do. She told me about Rachel singing on stage, but super-sad. She told me about the video, and I promised not to post it online, so she sent it to me. I watched, and instead of the normal feeling I got from watching Rachel on stage, I felt all dark and heavy.

So the part of _me_ that loved that part of _her _wanted to help so bad, but the other part was afraid of breaking the rules and making Santana mad at me. Maybe there are two Brittanys, just like there are two Rachels. The thing is? The scared side of me gets it wrong sometimes, and messes up, but the singy, dancey side doesn't. That side always knows just what to do. I twirled around and around, using my computer screen with sad Rachel singing on it to spot.

"You still there, Brittany?"

I forgot I was still holding the phone to my ear, with Tina waiting on the other side.

"Yeah. I want to help."

My cat, Maxi Ford, was staring at me, like she knew I was breaking the rules, and she was going to tell Santana. I named her after a tap-dancing step. That way, whenever I do a Maxi Ford turn, it makes me think of my cat, so I smile, and whenever I look at my cat, I think of dancing, and that makes me smile, too. But last week my diary wasn't where I left it, and I found Maxi sitting on top of it, open, and she was looking at me like she knew my secrets. San says cats always look at people that way, but I never noticed before.

"Brit?"

"What?"

"I asked what you thought we should do."

"Oh. Sorry. Well, we need to figure out why she's sad. The people who would know are…" I thought for a second. "Finn, Quinn, Puck, Jesse, and Kurt." Tina didn't say anything for a while. "Tina?"

"Sorry, Britt. I'm just surprised. All those people know why she's sad?"

"I don't know if they know or not. They're just the people who _would_ know. Because Quinn lives with her and they're becoming friends or whatever. Puck _used to be_ her boyfriend and they're still friends. Finn _wants_ to be her boyfriend, and Jesse _is_ her boyfriend. Kurt watches her a lot, but not as much now as when she dated Finn."

"Huh," Tina said. "I knew I called you for a reason."

"Yeah," I said, "Because Rachel is sad."

"No, I meant…never mind."

Why do people always say that to me?

"So, what should we do?" Tina asked.

"Well, we can't call Finn, Quinn, _and _Puck. That would just be a mess. And Kurt's kind of mean to Rachel sometimes. I mean, I am, too, but…anyway, I think we should start with Quinn and Puck." I pushed a bunch of buttons to start our four-way-call, and explained to Puck and Quinn what was going on. I forwarded the clip of Rachel singing.

"Shit," Puck grumbled after watching it.

"That's from Wicked," Quinn said. "Wicked is her favorite, but she usually sings Elphaba songs, and they always cheer her up. That's a Glinda song. It has happier parts in it, but she's skipping them."

"I thought she was happy since that Jesse douche transferred here," Puck muttered.

"We all did," Tina said.

"Ugh," Quinn replied, "No, she's been all angsty about it. Remember that day in the choir room when she was complaining about him getting all pissed when she wouldn't…_you know._"

"Have sex," I said, helping her, because I hate it when I can't remember the word I want to use.

"He WHAT?" Puck yelled. I had to move the phone away from my ear, because Puck's yelling made my ear hurt.

"Calm down, _Noah,_" Quinn teased. "He just got grumpy and left, but he apologized later. And that was all before he transferred and joined New Directions."

"You know, Mr. Shue never said whether Jesse was his son," I pointed out.

Puck laughed. "I think they just look alike, Brittany. Guess Berry's not completely over her hot-for-teacher phase, after all."

"Or she _is_, if her singing is any indication," Tina said.

"So, what, she's still lusting for Finn?" Puck grumbled.

"That can't be it," Quinn said. "Finn's made it quite clear that Rachel can have him if she wants him."

"Unless she's afraid it will hurt your feelings," I said. Maybe Rachel's finally learning the rules.

"No, she asked if I minded before they started dating in the first place, and I told her it was fine."

But those were out-loud rules. Sometimes people's mouths say something is okay, but the rest of them says something different. The saddest part is, Quinn and Finn are saying the same thing. They try not to look at each other, but whenever they're stuck near each other, they kind of mirror how each other is standing, and their bodies kind of lean toward each other. Their faces say, "I don't want to be around you, and I don't care anymore," but their bodies show that they do.

I tried to remember what Rachel and Finn's bodies did around each other. On stage, they still gave me goosebumps and stuff, but not off-stage anymore. With Jesse, sometimes she sunk into his arms all comfy, but other times she kind of held herself away from him. The one Rachel mirrored, and her body couldn't help leaning toward, was Puck. I thought really hard and remembered that his did, too. I wished I could see what his face and body were doing while we talked about Rachel. I'm not as good with words and stuff.

" 'kay, I'm coming over."

"Coming over where?" Tina asked. She sounded surprised, for some reason.

"To see Quinn at Rachel's house! Puck, meet us there." I hung up and grabbed my purse. I was about to run out the door when Maxi meowed. I pet her on the head. "I'll miss you," I said. "Please don't read my diary."

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**AN- I wanted to integrate Brittany's mean side with her sweet side, and her clueless side with her perceptive side. How did I do? Review, please!  
**


	16. Chapter 16 Santana: Beauty in the Broken

**AN: Aw, y'all really like Brittany! Me, too, so please enjoy a bit of Britt from the POV of her best friend, Santana. FYI, _Nena_ is a Spanish term of endearment. It means "baby girl" if your parents/grandparents say it, but it's sort of the equivalent of the American term "babe" if someone your age uses it.**

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As I pulled up to Britt's house, she was already outside, running to her car.

"Britt, where are you going?"

She looked like a little girl caught eating cookies before supper. "Oh, San…I, um, I was going to Rachel's house…to come up with some new choreography for glee."

Without me? I must have done a bad job hiding my disappointment, because Brittany stammered: "Oh! Oh, San, I didn't mean it."

"Didn't mean what?" I asked, confused.

"I wasn't really going to make up a dance without you. It was just all I could think of! I didn't want you to be mad at me, but I'd rather have you mad at me than sad."

"Why would I be mad, Britt?" I asked.

"Well…'cause you don't like Ra… RuPaul, and sometimes you don't like Quinn, either, and you used to date Puck. And then you were having sex with him, but not dating."

"_Nena_, what does that have to do with anything?"

"Well…Okay, Rachel? She's really sad? So she's even dancing and singing sad. And even though she dresses like she's home-schooled and is really dumb about being cool, I like singy-dancey-Rachel, so when she dances and sings sad, I feel sad."

Fuck. I hate Man-Hands, but I can't stand it when Britt's sad.

"Tina and I asked Quinn and Puck, and Quinn thinks Rachel doesn't really like Jesse," Brittany continued. "I mean, part of her does, but part of her doesn't."

"Let me guess: part of her is still in love with Finn."

"That's what Puck thought, too, but nope."

"Who is she in love with then, Mr. Shue?" I asked. Britt giggled, and grabbed my hand. She started swinging our linked hands back and forth.

"No, silly! Okay, close your eyes and picture Rachel in the middle of a circle. Then put all the boys in glee all around the circle. Now, who is Rachel leaning toward?"

"What? I don't know, _Nena_."

"Oh, I thought for sure you'd get it. 'Cause people's bodies say stuff their mouths won't say, and you're body-smart, so…"

I closed my eyes and tried to rewind to recent glee practices. I've tried to keep a sharp eye on everyone to make sure they have the choreography, to keep on top of any gossip, and to scout out weaknesses that I could use to my advantage.

Had I really missed something? I'd only been paying attention to Rachel and Finn or Rachel and Jesse. Well, she'd had some chemistry with Mike when they danced, but there _was_ someone else I'd seen her talking to. Someone who treated her differently than he treated just about anyone else. Someone who let her get away with things no one else would get away with, like calling him by his first name. When he slouched in his chair, he slouched toward her. He raised eyebrows at her and kind of pouted when she said stuff to him. She would touch his arms sometimes when they talked. "No way," I said with a groan.

"See? You saw it, too! You don't like him anymore, though, right? 'Cause that's what you said both the out-loud way and the body way."

"No, sweetie. I'm not interested in Puck, even though he is smokin' hot. But that doesn't mean we should hook him up with Rachel Berry! She and Jesse are like the perfect, dorky-Broadway-wannabe couple!"

"Nuh-uh," Brittany replied, letting go of my hand and shaking her head. "See, Jesse and Rachel are like glee choreography. It's pretty and perfect and the audience can usually guess what will happen next. It's pretty easy to do, and it's not too fancy, because the singing part is more important. And Rachel and Finn are more like a Cheerios routine. It's harder to do, and the dancing is the whole performance, so your body gets lost in dancing it, and that's all there is in the whole world." As she was talking, she demonstrated, shifting from the choreography from Somebody to Love to the choreography to our Cheerios routine from Nationals last year.

"So what are Rachel and Puck like?" I asked.

"They're like you and me: a Mia dance, or a Sonya dance." Then, she started dancing again, and it took me a while to recognize it as Katee's role from the "Hometown Glory" routine on So You Think You Can Dance, Season 4. Her body reeled and reached, ankles and toes flexed, every inch of her holding and releasing tension as the steps required, dancing until she had to stop because there was no one to lift her or catch her like Joshua had lifted and caught Katee.

Mia Michaels and Sonya Tayeh were Brittany's favorite choreographers, and So You Think You Can Dance was Brittany's favorite show. We both loved watching talented dancers work with some of America's best choreographers, even though the judges sometimes picked the wrong dancers for the top twenty, just to make the show more dramatic. Sonya and Mia mostly created contemporary pieces full of angles, dancers collapsing in on themselves, or expanding.

"We're a Mia dance? Mia dances are so sad," I said.

"Not all of them, but even the sad ones…the audience never knows what will happen next. You have to dance them with your whole heart. And if your heart is broken, that's okay, because the broken is part of what makes it beautiful."

"What if being broken means he can't let himself love her?" I asked, so soft I almost didn't recognize my own voice.

Brittany looked at me, stared for a second, then gave me a soft kiss.

"It'll be scary, but he'll figure it out. See, Puck? He doesn't trust his heart, and his head is mean. Like if you scare Maxi, or step on her tail? She hisses and bites, because she's hurt or scared. The only other time she bites is if you pet her too much. It's like she gets too happy, and that scares her, so she tries to chase it away. Like her head tells her she's not allowed to be that happy. So it seems like she's being mean to me by biting, but she's being meaner to herself. Get it?"

She was trying to look casual, only glancing at me sideways from under her bangs, but I knew her better than that. She was saying that my head was mean, too.

"Okay, okay. We'll go help RuP…Rachel. We'll help Rachel get Puck."

And there were other things, too—things I didn't know how to say to her. But from the way she took my hand and twirled me, I was sure she understood.

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**AN- Thanks for reading. Drop a line to tell me what you thought, or to make any comments or requests.**


	17. Chapter 17 Puck: Learning to Fall

**AN: Warning- Puck's got a potty mouth. Other than that? Enjoy!**

As I got to Berry's house, Santana and Brittany were walking up, holding hands. I had thought they were just "barsexual:—girls who make out in bars and parties just to get guys hot for them, you know? But they were doing this without knowing I could see.

Anyway, when we all got to the door, Lopez told Britt to go inside and shoved me against the house.

"Dude, putting the moves on me outside my baby-mama's house? Not cool."

She rolled her eyes. "You wish, Puckerman! Look, Britt and Quinn are going to want to do this the girly way, but I'd rather not waste my time. You and Treasure Trail: what's the deal?"

I growled at her nickname for Berry and tried to keep my temper. "Nothing's going on with _Berry,_" I told her. "Quinn and I just broke up, and Rachel's with Jesse StJerk."

Santana raised an eyebrow and smirked at me.

"What, Lopez?"

"Nothing. I just think it's interesting that I ask you what's up with you and Berry, and you tell me she's taken. You used to say she was an annoying midget who made you want to pull out what's left of your hair. God, what is it about that girl? She wears bizarre clothes, and she's terminally uncool. She doesn't even put out, but you and Jesse and Finn can't get enough! She's like crystal meth or something: idiotic to try, but once you do, you're hooked!"

I laughed, because that _was_ kind of what it was like. The thing was, a lot of the stuff that made Rachel uncool also made her a badass. She wore that awesome naughty schoolgirl shit even though it got her slushied. She announced that girls want sex at the celibacy club and convinced the original gleeks to perform Push It at the assembly, complete with perverted choreography. She said what she wanted and did what she wanted. Plus she was an awesome kisser.

"Whatever, Lopez. Is this about Finn? Are you jealous?"

"No!" she said, a little too sharply.

"It's not like she could steal the one you really want," I said.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she replied, defensively.

I shrugged. "Whatever, Lopez. It's none of my business. Hot, but none of my business."

She smacked the side of my head, and then we went inside the Berry house. Brittany instantly grabbed my arm and led me to a room set up like a dance studio. Santana was right behind us. Quinn, Tina and Rachel were waiting inside. Rachel was dressed up in ballet stuff with her leg up on this rail-thing that was hanging on a wall of mirrors. She was stretching, and eventually, her foot pointed straight up in the air. _Damn. _

"So for glee?" Brittany began, "I think we should do some lifts? Vocal Adrenaline's always doing lifts and stuff. They're really fast, and they have so many people that it looks cool. But I was thinking that it's like figure skating, where there are technical marks and artistic marks? When it comes to singing, they have really good technical marks, but our singing makes people feel stuff. The audience gets up and dances sometimes, and we make them cry other times. And I think our dancing should make people feel stuff, too. Like a Mia dance."

She had me until that last part. I felt a tugging at my sleeve and looked down.

"Mia Michaels is a talented contemporary choreographer featured on a competitive dance show," Rachel whispered. I just nodded.

"So I came up with some things, but I need Puck and Rachel to try them out."

"Me?" Okay, I may have sounded scared just then, but I wasn't. At all.

"Yeah. Mike and Matt are busy today, and after them, you're the best dancer, so that's why I need you. I'd do it, but when I do it, I can't see what it looks like. I mean, I know there are mirrors, but my teacher says not to look in the mirror when someone's catching and throwing you, 'cause that's dangerous. So that's why I need Rachel."

"Wait, you want me to _catch and throw_ Berry?" It was bad enough when they just wanted me to lift her.

"Don't worry, Noah," Rachel said. "You can do it. You're very good at catching and throwing in football and basketball. I know I'm significantly heavier, but I'm sure your lovely guns can handle it."

I flexed them a little before I could stop myself. "Of course I can lift you. You weigh like twelve pounds. That's not the point, Berry. The point is, unlike a ball, if I dropped you, you would get hurt."

"I'm a trained dancer, Noah. My instructors have taught me the safest ways to fall."

"Seriously?"

"Of course. It's like our ballet instructor always says," Brittany joined Berry in the quote: "You cannot fly if you are afraid to fall."

"Puck, have you seen Dirty Dancing?" Brittany asked.

"No."

"Oh, come on," Santana said. "You expect us to believe that you never used Dirty Dancing to get a girl to make out with you?"

Busted. That movie gets girls hot. They always end up wanting to grind, and since I've got moves, it's not hard to take it from there.

"Okay, maybe I've seen it once or twice. Why?"

"Well, the movie gives a pretty good idea of how lifts work. Rachel's going to kind of run at you, and you're going to catch her and just lift her straight over your head. But it's going to be easier than in the movie, because Rachel has the hard part, but she's trained. She won't break form."

"Isn't lifting harder than being lifted?" I asked.

"Nope," Brittany said simply.

"The hardest part," Berry explained, "is trusting the other person to catch you and lift you. If you don't trust them, you hesitate, and if you hesitate, you get hurt."

_What about trusting yourself not to fuck up,_ I wondered. Then, it was like Berry could read my mind.

"You can do this, Noah. I trust you. You won't drop me. Look, this will be easier if you don't have time to worry about it," she said, kinda jogging away. "Ready?"

And then, she was running straight at me. I latched my hands on her waist and swung her up.

"Good," Brittany said. "Arms straight up, as strong as you can!"

I did it!

"Noah," Berry said, "I forgot one thing."

"What's that?" My arms were starting to shake a tiny bit from being locked this long.

"I jumped before we taught you how to put me down properly."

"San, come spot!" Brittany exclaimed. Then they did that cheerleading thing where they're ready to catch a girl if she falls. "Puck, can you slowly bend your arms?"

I did. I lowered Rachel, her body sliding against mine until her feet touched the floor. She wrapped her arms around my waist and squeezed.

"You did wonderfully, Noah!"

"You scared the shit out of me, Babe," I said quietly, tucking some loose hair behind her ear.

"That's because you don't have my sixth sense." Rachel said, "I knew you could do it. I knew you would catch me."

For hours, they made us do all this dance stuff that was harder than anything I'd ever done. It seemed kind of fruity to me, but then Tina had showed me some online clips of these guys—Twitch, Joshua and a badass named Hok—doing similar moves. They didn't look like pussies, and when these guys walked onstage, the girls in the audience went insane. So I did what Brittany, Santana and Quinn said, and kept holding and throwing and catching Rachel. Sometimes the girls would use their hands to adjust my position.

"Ah, ladies, I knew it. This was all an excuse to get your hands on me."

Best of all, Rachel's body was all over mine, and I got to hold her and move with her. _These dance guys are onto something,_ I thought. _You get to spend time with a girl, putting your hands all over her. No one lectures you for using you body to say all the shit you can't say out loud. Instead of thinking you're a jerk for it, they think you're an artist. Hell, yeah!_

Finally, we were ready to do the whole dance with the music, without Brittany and Santana acting it out for us. It was kind of like sex, only there was nothing to prove, and it wasn't about trying to get to that best part at the end. It was like Rachel and I were alone together inside the song. As song ended, I was on my back on the floor, holding Rachel parallel above me, and she was stiff as a board, but then I lowered her to my body, and she softened the minute her body hit mine. Our lips were almost touching…

"Yay!" Brittany squealed. "That was perfect!"

Next thing I knew, Berry had jumped up, breathing heavily. I got up more slowly.

"Well, Brittany," Rachel said, "if the dance looked like it _felt_, it's quite powerful. I'm very impressed by your artistry as a choreographer! However, the moves are far too demanding to perform while singing."

"Oh, yeah, I know." Brittany said. "Oh. But…" She looked distressed.

"It's okay, Britt!" Santana said, rolling her eyes. "We can have most people sing while a small group dances. Mike and Matt will pick it up, no problem, so having the six of us dance would probably make the most sense."

"Oh, good!" Brittany exclaimed and laid a big kiss on Lopez. I raised an eyebrow and…okay, maybe I smirked a little.

Santana walked over to me, cell phone in hand, and showed me a video she'd taken of me and Berry dancing. "You say _anything,_" she warned, "and I post this on YouTube."

"Oh, no, a video of me with my hands all over a hot chick!" I said, sarcastically. "Go for it, Lopez. I'm a stud. I could go to school in a tutu and I'd still be a stud. Look, I'm not going to tell anyone about you and Britt, but you make a hot couple. Stop being a pussy."

"_Excuse me?"_

"When I first dated Berry, I knew I was going to take shit for it, but I was a man about it. Man up. Woman up. Whatever."

"It's not that simple."

"Yeah," I admitted. Berry was unpopular, but no one was going to claim our relationship was a sin or whatever. "Sorry. At least now I know the real reason we broke up."

"I already told you why: your credit score sucks. Britt's credit score is awesome."

"Rachel, let's go get everyone some water," Tina said.

"Okay," Berry agreed. "Noah, start stretching or you could cramp."

I nodded, but once she had climbed the stairs, I turned to the remaining girls. "What the hell? I thought we were here to figure out what was wrong with Berry and how to help her, not to dance all day!"

"I _did_ figure out what was wrong and how to help her," Brittany exclaimed.

"Britt," Quinn said, shaking her head at Brittany.

"What, so now it's a secret?" I asked. "I'm not in on the plan anymore?"

"Remember what I told you outside, Puck?" Santana reminded with an eye-roll. "Girly way."

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**So, what do you think? Drop a review, please!**


	18. Chapter 18 Quinn: Love Hexagon

**AN: Warning: spoilers from "Bad Reputation." I love the shout-out to/teasing of Puck & Rachel shippers: **

**"Did you know that when we dated, the rest of the school gave us a nickname: 'Puckelberry?'"**

**"That's humiliating." **

**"The fact is that slumming it with me actually _improved_ your reputation. It gave you a sense of humanity." **

**Hee! It's funny 'cause it's true. I also love that the writers gave a nod to how much they have in common: singing, seduction, Judaism, hotness, and lack of impulse control when it comes to terrorizing others (whether with criticism or with a fire extinguisher). **

**Murphy and co. have created a crazy love hexagon with Jesse, Rachel, Puck, Quinn, Finn, and Santana. Heck, it's an octagon if you include Brittany and Kurt. Here's my attempt to meld crazy new canon with my storyline.  
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At our choreography session, we had agreed to wait a week for Rachel and Puck to sort out their romance for themselves. Surely they would wake up sooner or later. Rachel would break up with Jesse, and Puck would make his move, right? Instead, Rachel made that insane video and presented it during our Thursday glee rehearsal. Apparently, we didn't take the cry for help in her performance of "Thank Goodness" seriously enough. Or maybe it was my fault.

I woke up at three a.m. Friday morning to pee, again, because the baby seemed to enjoy sitting on my bladder. As I came out of the bathroom, I heard noises downstairs: the oven opening and closing, and Celine Dion?

"_Don't wanna be all by myself," _Rachel was singing along softly into a spatula. Tears ran down her cheeks, and every inch of the table and the counter was covered with cooling cookies, icing, dirty bowls and flour. Rachel looked more manic than I'd seen her since our mashup of "Walking On Sunshine" and "Halo."

"Rachel? What on _earth_ are you doing?"

She jumped and gave a little scream at the sound of my voice. "Oh, Quinn. You scared me. I'm just making my famous 'I'm Sorry' cookies."

"For who?"

"It's 'for whom.' Damn it, I did it again. I try not to criticize but I just can help it. I mean, I try to hold it in, but…"

"MAN-HANDS, focus!" I hadn't called her that in a while, but I wanted to get her attention. Okay, and to be honest, I was still mad at her.

"Oh. Um, they're for everyone. I mean first, I was making a batch for Jesse, because he was my boyfriend and I humiliated him. And then I started a batch for Finn, because I know how hurt I felt when he put his reputation before my feelings, but I did the exact same thing to him. And then a batch for Noah, because I was manipulating him. Also, I know his affinity for homemade baked goods. But then I realized that I owed you a batch, too, because I didn't think about how my video would make you feel. By that point, I figured it was best that I bake some for the entire glee club. After all, by sowing these seeds of discord, I hurt the group as a whole."

She'd barely taken a breath, and the whole time she was talking, she kept working, transferring cookies from a baking sheet to a cooling rack, then flattening a ball of dough with a rolling pin. She grabbed a star-shaped cookie cutter.

"But I'm going to fix it. I'm working on a plan." She gestured to the white board on the wall that usually held her intricate schedule of extracurricular activities. Instead, there was a timeline, and a diagram of our relationships. Most groups have love triangles, but we have a love hexagon? There were points on the diagram for me, Rachel, Jesse, Puck, Finn, and "Santana (& Brittany)." Color-coded arrows connected the various points. Rachel was in full-on Crazy Berry mode, which was good for achieving a career on Broadway or firing the creepy, groping music teacher, but bad if Rachel turned her sights on your life. "You see, the first step is to figure out where everything went wrong, but then I'll fix it, Quinn. I promise. I'll fix everything. I just need to…"

"Rachel!" I reached out and stopped her frantic motions with the cookie cutter. "I wrote the glist." I don't know why I said it. It's just she was in this shame spiral of insanity.

"What?"

"This mess wasn't _all_ your fault. I was tired of feeling invisible, so I made the glist and put myself at the top. I put you at the bottom because I'm mad at you, and I knew it would drive you nuts. I…I'm sorry."

"Wait, that was before I made the video. Why were you mad _before_ the video?"

"Look, I know it's not fair of me to feel this way, since you took me in and you're trying to be my friend, but you have everything. You have your dads, your body, your talent and your boyfriend. You had Finn. Even Puck wanted to be exclusive with you! When he's with me, I have to drag him away from flirting with a different Cheerio every five seconds."

Rachel slumped onto a kitchen stool and guiltily murmured, "I almost kissed Noah this week. Twice. I'm so sorry."

"And I'm sorry I made fun of you when you told us about Jesse pressuring you…and that I drew that mean picture and posted it everywhere."

"That was you?" Rachel looked hurt for a second, but shook her head. "What I did was far worse. In order to further my cause, I made it look like both your ex and your current boyfriend are interested in me."

"They are."

"No, they aren't."

"I disagree. And actually, they're both my exes."

Puck and I didn't work well as an actual couple, but we actually made great friends. We continued to hold hands and cuddle because Puck was better with physical affection than words, so it was just his way of showing that he cared about me and the baby. And, though I hate to admit it, it was comforting and made me feel safe. It didn't seem like the right time to explain our relationship to Rachel. I also suspected she wasn't ready to hear that Tina, Britt, San and I had consulted and decided that Noah and Rachel were cluelessly in love.

"You and Noah broke up? So I managed to break up another of your relationships? That's just GREAT." Rachel picked up a bowl of icing, squirted in some red food coloring, and began to stir vigorously. "Perhaps you could reconsider? Noah is just…Noah. Impulse control is not his strong suit, but he's really trying to change. And deep-down, Finn is still in love with _you_."

I tried not to let my heart jump at her words about Finn. "Puck and I realize we make better friends, that's all," I said. "But you're wrong about Finn."

Rachel shook her head. "While we were dating, I'd see him watching you. Losing you to Puck hurt his pride, and he hates feeling dumb in front of the whole school. His injured pride is only thing keeping Finn from going back to you. It's the only thing stopping him from resuming his friendship with Noah, for that matter. Finn liked me in the first place partly because we have such good stage chemistry, but mostly because the intensity of my crush blinded me to his faults. As a result, I'm embarrassed to admit, I worshipped him."

I barely stopped myself from pointing out that everyone already _knew_ she had worshipped Finn, so she didn't have to feel embarrassed for admitting it.

"Finn misses that ego-boost, but he actually loves you," Rachel added. "I'll help you get him back, Quinn. That's how things are _supposed_ to be. I just managed to manipulate everyone into this giant mess."

Rachel set down the bowl with a thud and went back to cutting out cookies, then carefully transferred the dough stars to a cookie sheet. She popped them into the oven, set the timer, then began to ice a cooled batch with the fresh pink icing.

"Look," I said, "things have been wrong between me and Finn for a while. If everything had been okay, I wouldn't have had sex with Puck and Finn wouldn't have fooled around with you. And after I got pregnant, I was so mean to Finn. It was like, I didn't want this to be my fault, so I blamed him for not paying enough attention to me, and for joining New Directions. But it started before that.

"I was a Cheerio, and the Cheerios are the best cheerleading squad in the country because Sue Sylvester rules with an iron fist. She used to tell me, 'Q, children need fear. It's mother's milk to them.' I thought she was right. Everything I'd accomplished in my life, I had done because of fear: fear I'd let my parents down, or my team, or even God. Fear that I'd be unpopular, or that I'd end up alone. But the more I tried to scare Finn into being what I wanted, the more I just scared him away."

Rachel opened her mouth, but for once she didn't know what to say.

"I learned from Ms. P and Mr. Shue and your dads that you can make people better through love, too— encouraging people, and inspiring them to be better. You're not the only one who wants to be different, Rachel—who wants to stop criticizing. I know how hard it is. I know that rush that comes from putting other people down. You do it with music; Cheerios do it with looks."

"It's not the same," Rachel said. "Although I state my critiques too harshly, or in instances when I should let Mr. Shue handle it, I'm just being honest, to make them better singers!"

"Look, some of the stuff we say to you is obviously bull, but the stuff about your clothes, or your diva fits? They're true. You don't think you'd be more popular if you followed our advice? That doesn't mean it's right for us to torture you, just because you don't live up to our standards."

Her eyes widened with awareness.

"Thank you, Quinn. That's very enlightening. Look, I…I was changing out of a slushied top in the bathroom the other day and overheard a conversation. Mercedes told Tina what you said about eating for the baby, taking care of your body, and Mercedes being beautiful. You are changing. It's just…it's not instant. Change is a process."

"Exactly, Rachel. You want there to be this magic moment when everyone instantly sees you differently. I know that's how it works in a musical, but real life doesn't work that way."

Rachel nodded, reluctantly. "So cookies probably won't get everyone to forgive me."

"Probably not," I said, "But they couldn't hurt. Maybe just present them as cookies, though, not a plea for forgiveness. No strings attached, okay?"

Rachel nodded.

"Let's clean this up and go to bed."

"Quinn, how are we ever going to get out of this mess?" She was talking about the love hexagon, not the kitchen.

"I don't know, Rach. I think we just take it one step at a time. What if…what if we just stepped away from the drama for a while?"

But I knew, at this point, that was probably impossible. Everyone in the hexagon would be in glee practice every day. Glee meant too much to Rachel and me for us to give it up. Besides, I was full of pregnancy hormones, and Rachel was a diva by nature.

"Easier said than done," Rachel mused.

"I know," I said, "Just try to forget about what you _thought_ you wanted, or what you're _supposed _to want. Trust your heart, Rachel."

"I'm going to hug you," she stated, then wrapped me in her arms. She was careful of my belly, but hugged me firmly, relaxing a knot inside me that I hadn't known existed.

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**So, we've paved the way for straight-up Puckleberry next chapter! I'm thinking of setting it in Glee rehearsal, from Mr. Schue's POV, although we haven't had a Rachel POV in a while. We also haven't heard from Mike or Matt (much like on the actual show)! I could also go omniscient. Who should it be? Thoughts? Questions? Concerns? Drop a comment.**


	19. Chapter 19 Rachel: Let's Stay Together

**AN- Enjoy!**

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**"_Mama who bore me, mama who gave me no way to handle things--who made me so sad. Mama, the weeping. Mama, the angels. No sleep in heaven or Bethlehem." _I gazed out into the auditorium, trying to pour my pain out in the words of the song. _  
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I only got a few hours of sleep last night after Quinn and I finishing icing that last batch of cookies and cleaning the kitchen. She made me set my alarm for 7 and skip my morning exercise so that I could complete at least one REM cycle, which I had to agree was sensible. However, if I'd know what I would dream, I would have stayed awake. I dreamed of my mother again. At least this time, she wasn't tripping me. But this time, she kept watching me through a closed window. She could have opened the window. She could have walked through the open door. She wouldn't. Again, I awoke tingling.

I had decided to sing about it before the others arrived for glee practice. I admit, the lyrics are a bit on-the-nose, but I adore the show "Spring Awakening," and the tone of the song "Mama Who Bore Me" was perfect for my emotional state. The song ended, and as I turned to select a new backing track on my laptop, I saw Noah in the wings.

"You know, people worry about you when you sing songs that sad, Berry."

"They do? Which people?"

"Tina. Brittany. Quinn. Me."

Suddenly I felt a lot less lonely, but self-conscious. "What's wrong with singing sad songs?"

"Nothing. It's just lately, when you sing them, you seem sadder than the song. So what's wrong?"

"Besides the fact that I screwed everything up with you and Jesse and Finn?"

"You didn't screw things up with me. I mean, that video was lame. No offense, babe. Other than that, we're cool."

Part of me wanted to defend my artistic vision, but my sane side won for once, and I just laughed. "Really?" I was so relieved. "Well, on top of that mess, I keep having these dreams. As you know, I was raised without a mother. Well, lately, I keep having these dreams where I have one. At first in the dreams, she was always out to get me, tripping me or pushing me. Now, she's outside the house, and she just watches me from a distance and won't come closer. I just have this weird feeling."

"Your 'sixth sense' again, Berry? You know, if you really had a sixth sense, it would have warned you not to make that stupid video."

"Noah!" I exclaimed, smacking his arm.

"Hey, Berry! Didn't anyone ever tell you that violence is not the answer?"

In fact, _I _had often offered _him_ that advice.

"Okay, you tried singing it out," Noah said. "Let's try dancing it out."

"Really?" I was very excited by his proposal. I had been impressed by Noah's willingness to attempt contemporary dance at my house, but for him to initiate it—and in a public place—was…hot.

"Let's try it to this song," he said, clicking a listing in my iTunes library. I was impressed, because he had chosen a very different song than we used in rehearsal, yet I could tell the counts of the dance could synch up pretty well.

Al Green crooned, _"I'm…I'm so in love with you. Whatever you want to do is alright with me…"_ We swayed, and he spun me, and we moved apart. I ran to Noah, and he lifted me, just as we'd practiced. I held my position, and he lowered my body against his. We were swaying and reaching. I'd always thought of myself as a consummate professional when it came to dance, yet Noah's hands on my body made me shiver. _"Let me be the one you come running to. I'll never be untrue. __Ooo baby, let's, let's stay together. Loving you whether, whether times are good or bad, happy or sad…"_ And then I realized I was smiling, even laughing as we danced. The steps disappeared in that wonderful way they do when you've internalized them: like they're just happening, naturally. In the back of my mind, I heard the auditorium door clank open, but I didn't care. All too soon, the song was over. Again, I was suspended, rigid, over Noah. He lowered me to his body, and as we touched, I softened, until…

"SERIOUSLY?" Finn roared.

"It's called 'choreography,' Finnocence," Santana piped up. "Relax!"

Noah and I looked up to see most of the glee club sitting in the audience watching us. Jesse and Finn stood in the aisle. Finn looked angry, and Jesse just looked disappointed. I rolled off of Noah and hopped up to my feet.

"I would like to apologize. Not for this. Santana is correct: Noah was helping me practice the routine Brittany choreographed for the Glee club."

"That's a little too hot for regionals!" Mercedes exclaimed.

"Nah, that's just Al Greene working his mojo," Noah piped up. "With the actual song, people will probably manage to keep their clothes on."

Mercedes still looked skeptical. Tina just giggled. Wait, had Noah chosen Al Greene in an attempt to get me to disrobe? No, I couldn't think about that right now, but my face felt hot.

"As I was saying, I would like to apologize to all of you. I was selfish. I put my emotional needs before the welfare of the group."

"Rachel, do I smell cookies?" Matt asked.

"Yes. You have an excellent nose, Matthew!" I pointed to the tray of cookies downstage. "Please, everyone, help yourself. Finn, may I talk to you for a minute?"

Jesse looked even more disappointed. I hadn't thought that was possible.

Finn lumbered up on stage, and we moved to stage right. "Finn, I'm so sorry. I was wrong. I remember how much it hurt when you put your reputation before our relationship. And on top of that, asking you to be in my video probably gave you false hope."

"Probably?"

"And I remember how much false hope hurts, too. I'm sorry. I really am, Finn."

"You're just saying that because Jesse broke up with you."

"What? No, Finn! No. I'm not trying to get you back. I'm not trying to get anyone back. For so long, I had this fantasy or how my life was _supposed _to be. Now I'm just trying to figure out what I really want."

"Yeah? Well, don't take too long. By the time you figure it out, what you want may be gone. I learned that the hard way."

"Finn…"

"Whatever, Rach." He started to stalk off, but Santana blocked his path, and Quinn handed him a cookie, then guided him into a seat. He looked stunned that she was standing there, touching him—like she was a mirage. Quinn sat beside him, and he didn't move away. Progress! I couldn't help but smile as my eyes met hers. Then, I saw Jesse heading for the door.

"Jesse, wait!" Projected from the stage, my voice was really, really loud. Every single person in the room was staring at me. I ran off the stage and down to where he stood. "We need to talk. I know you gave everything up for me…for us. But now you and I aren't an "us" anymore, so I need to know: do you want to go back to Vocal Adrenaline? We all love having you here. We would love it if you stayed. But if you want to go back, we would understand. Right, everyone? We haven't made our set list yet, or finalized our choreography. We…we would be okay. And you could have it back: the popularity and the special effects and the world's brightest spotlight."

"What, like Ms Corcoran would just take me back as lead? It's not that simple, Rachel."

"Maybe it is. It could be. Just think about it, okay? And until you decide, please stay. Sing. You know you want to." I gave him a cajoling smile, and he smirked in return.

"That's playing dirty, Rachel."

"Come on, what would you like to sing while we wait for Mr. Shue?"

Then Brittany bounced into the auditorium with an announcement that would change everything.

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**AN-The songs used above are "Mama Who Bore Me" from "Spring Awakening" and Al Greene's sexy-as-hell "Let's Stay Together." **


	20. Chapter 20 Will: Immense and Irrevocable

**AN- I'm racing to complete this story before a new episode comes on to blow my mind/hijack my storyline. Enjoy!  
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"Will!"

"Shelby?" Shelby Corcoran was in my choir room. This couldn't be good. I prayed that Emma had already gone home for the day. "What are you doing here, Shelby?"

"Well, I got a call from your assistant about whether I would allow Jesse StJames to rejoin Vocal Adrenaline as lead singer! What are you trying to pull, Will? First you accuse me of sending in a spy. Then you steal my male lead. Now you're sending him back? What's his mission, espionage or sabotage?"

"What? Neither! I don't even _have_ an assistant. Look, I'm sure we can sort this out!"

Then, Brittany bounced into the room.

"Hi, Mr. Shue! Hi, Mrs. Berry! Where is everyone?"

_Mrs. Berry?_ Brittany was a sweet girl and a brilliant dancer, but I often had trouble following her train of thought. "We're rehearsing in the auditorium, remember?"

"Oh, yeah! Sorry!"

"It's okay. Tell everyone to get started and I'll be right there."

"Okay!" she exclaimed and dashed out. When I turned around, Shelby was pale. She didn't have her normal imposing stance or shining smile. Since I first met Shelby, she had reminded me of someone, but I could never figure out who. Suddenly, Brittany's words clicked all the pieces into place.

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"Sorry I'm late," Brittany said as she walking into the auditorium, where the members of New Directions were munching on star-shaped cookies. "I went to the choir room by accident. Oh, Rachel, your mom's here! She's in the choir room talking with Mr. Shue."

"Brittany, I don't have a mom. I have two gay dads, remember?"

"Oh, yeah. But Mr. Emery said in bio class that to be born…"

"You're quite right, Brittany. Of course I have a biological mother. My fathers screened possible surrogates by beauty and IQ. She gave birth to me, but I've never met her. What makes you think the woman in the choir room is my mother?"

"She looks just like you, and she stands just like you and moves like you. Okay, I was wrong about Jesse being Mr. Shue's son, but I _know_ I'm right this time."

Rachel opened her mouth and took a breath, as if she were about to speak. Then, she was gone. Jesse took off after her, then Puck. The rest of New Directions looked at each other for a second, wondering what to do.

Finn sighed. "Let's go." The group found Puck in the hallway, looking the open choir room door. Puck looked like he was standing guard, and he held up an arm, barring the others from barging in. Still, from the hall they could see Will Shuester and Shelby Corcoran facing Jesse StJames and Rachel Berry. Will and Shelby were holding hands.

"Oh, my god!" Kurt whispered, whisking out his cell phone to snap a picture under Puck's arm.

"That is seriously freaky," Mercedes agreed, because Will and Shelby basically looked like Jesse and Rachel in fifteen years. Quinn slipped under Puck's arm and into the choir room.

"I think I'm going to vomit!" Santana hissed.

"Why?" Artie asked.

"Seriously? Rachel dating a Shue clone was bad enough; we all knew she had that crush on him when she chased him around the piano during 'Endless Love.' But Mr. Shue dating a Berry clone means that _he_…"

"Oh, ew, ew, brain bleach!" Kurt exclaimed. "Shue and Berry? Someone please wipe that mental image from my memory!"

At that, the foursome in the choir room turned their attention to the glee clubbers standing in the hall, trying (unsuccessfully) to look like they hadn't been spying.

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**Minutes earlier**

Rachel tore into the room and froze in her tracks when she saw Shelby. I saw Shelby's hand shake, and without even thinking, I took it in mine. A moment later, Jesse appeared, too.

"Ms. C, it _is _you. You know, I never put it together before? Brittany said Rachel's mom was here: a woman here who looked just like Rachel. And suddenly I knew."

"Is it true?" Rachel asked. "Are you…Wait, Jesse, you know her? And Mr. Shue, why are you holding her hand? What are you doing here?"

I could feel Shelby steeling herself. She released my hand and straightened her spine.

"My name is Shelby Corcoran, and I am the coach for Carmel High. I'm here because Will's assistant called me regarding Jesse's return to Vocal Adrenaline."

"That was me," Rachel murmured, stunned. "I called you. After Jesse broke up with me, I knew I had to make things better. He gave up Vocal Adrenaline for me. He gave up everything, and I thought if you would take him back as lead…"

"You did that for me?" Jesse asked.

I could tell Rachel didn't even hear him. She couldn't take her eyes off of Shelby. Quinn ducked under Puck's arm and crossed the room, silently taking Rachel's hand.

"Are you my birth mother?"

"Yes."

"Did you know I was here?"

"Yes."

"How long have you known?"

"Since Sectionals. Jesse told me about your performance, so I watched it on YouTube." Shelby paused: "Barbra's my favorite, too."

Her voice was different on the last four words: fragile. It reminded me of Rachel's voice when she told me everyone hated her during our talk on the bleachers back when the club first began. That conversation had led me to Finn. I had forgotten that. Hell, if Rachel hadn't gotten Sandy Ryerson fired, I wouldn't be coaching the glee club at all. Rachel Berry had changed my life immensely and irrevocably, and I hadn't even realized it.

All the four of us could do was look at each other. Then, Kurt's voice in the hall broke the silence: "Oh, ew, ew, brain bleach! Shue and Berry? Someone please wipe that mental image from my memory!"

My eyes widened, and so did Rachel's, as Kurt's implication became clear to us. _Erase it from mine, too, Kurt,_ I thought. _Brain bleach for everyone._

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**AN- So, what do you think? Questions, comments, concerns? Please take a quick second to review.**


	21. Chapter 21 Emma: Managing Messes

**AN: Warning- long one. Note: In America, "jumper" refers to a pinafore dress, not a sweater. Most denim jumpers tend to be rather unflattering to women, making them look simultaneously flat-chested and thick-waisted. Though the trend is finally dying out, middle-aged American primary school teachers used to wear them a lot. My mom still does. *Shudder.* Now, let's sort out the drama with Rachel Berry's mama.  
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_Tap-tap-tap. _Someone was tapping on my door, leaving smudges on the glass. I looked up to see Tina Cohen-Chang, looking distraught. I had a soft spot for Tina. On one level, she was so shy, yet her appearance was so bold. Today, instead of her usual goth or punk clothes, she was in a puffy babydoll dress, harajuku-Lolita style. I opened the door.

"How can I help you, Tina?"

"Ms. P., you have to come to the choir room!"

"Oh, well, gosh…the choir room?" That was the last place I wanted to go.

"Ms. Pilsbury, Rachel and Jesse broke up, so Rachel called his old coach from Vocal Adrenaline, and now she's _here_, only it turns out she's Rachel's _mother,_ only Rachel didn't know that, and Mr. Shue tried to send everyone home, only Rachel wouldn't let them go, because she said she doesn't want to shirk her duties as Glee club president, and she just wants to deal with the Jesse issue, and no one knows what to do."

Tina was out of breath from delivering that information, and I'd felt my eyes widen at each revelation. The woman Will fooled around with was Rachel's biological mother? That's just...messy.

Looking into Tina's bewildered face, I knew that I needed to go to the choir room—Not for Will, but for Rachel. She was apparently in denial. I quickly looked up her contact information on my computer and tried to call her fathers, but no one answered.

"Okay," I said with a sigh, "Let's go."

When we reached the choir room, the students were perched awkwardly on the edges of their seats. A woman who looked remarkably like Rachel sat on the piano bench. Will was pacing, and trying to convince Rachel that they should cancel practice for the day. None of the students looked eager to leave: half of them looked concerned for their classmate, and half looked unabashedly curious.

"Look," Rachel said, "This biology issue is irrelevant! Ms. Corcoran, I appreciate your role in my creation. Apparently, I received my lovely hair from you, and perhaps your genetics played a role in my musical abilities, but that's really not relevant to the issue at hand."

"Berry," Noah Puckerman said, placing a hand on her shoulder, "You can pretend you don't care about this mom stuff, but you and I both know that…"

"Noah," she snapped, "Don't. Please, I can't." Her voice broke, and she began to whisper. "I just can't do this. I can't. Please, just…please?"

I cleared my throat, and fifteen sets of eyes turned to me at the door. "Will, could I speak to you for a moment?"

"Emma, er, Ms. Pilsbury, it's not the best time."

Why did he think I was here? I just raised an eyebrow incredulously, and we went into the hall.

"Emma, I know it must be strange for you, having Shelby here, but it's more complicated than that."

"I know," I said. "Tina told me what's going on, so I'm here to help Rachel."

Will sighed with relief. He thought I'd come to make a scene. Well, after my Sue-induced rant in the teacher's lounge, I couldn't entirely blame him. The problem with teaching is you spend so much time with kids that you start to act like them. It's why some elementary school teachers end up wearing seasonal sweaters and denim jumpers. In high school teachers, it results in cliques, gossip, and excessive emotional displays.

"Em, I seriously don't know what to do. The kids won't leave, but we can't really ignore this, right?"

"Why don't we humor Rachel, to put her at ease? Then we can send the other kids home and deal with the real issue?"

He nodded in agreement, and we went back into the choir room. Will gestured to his stool so I could sit down. I did so and cleared my throat again.

"Rachel, as I understand it, you would prefer to focus on glee club issues: is that right?"

"Yes, Ms. Pilsbury. With regional's coming up, we need to start finalizing our set list and choreography. As such, if Jesse is going to return to Vocal Adrenaline, he needs to do so as soon as possible."

I turned to Shelby. "Ms…"

"Corcoran."

"Ms. Corcoran, would it be possible for Jesse to return to Vocal Adrenaline?"

"Technically, if he either moved back to the district or filed open enrollment papers, yes. However, I have some concerns about his return. How do I know this isn't a trick?"

"Why would it be a trick?" Rachel asked, looking wounded. "Jesse moved here for me. He gave up his home, his popularity, and his starring role in a national champion show choir. I wrecked things between us, and I can't undo it. I just thought maybe I could help Jesse get back those things he sacrificed for me. I already explained it! Why…"

"Because she thinks you're like her," Jesse said, softly. "Because it's what she would do."

"I tol…OUCH!" Quinn had pinched Finn mid-word and was now furiously whispering in his ear. He looked more sheepish than usual.

Rachel's normally erect posture slumped. "Jesse, what do you mean?"

"When I first saw you at sectionals? I was there because Mr. C sent me. She sent members of Vocal Adrenaline to every sectionals competition in our region. We were supposed to evaluate the competition." Rachel's eyes shone with tears. I knew the other members of New Directions had warned her that Jesse was using her, and she had proclaimed that he actually wanted her. Now, it seemed that she'd been wrong. I wondered whether Rachel's ego could handle the blow. (Sometimes the biggest egos are the most fragile.)

"When I saw you in the music store, it was just a coincidence. I asked you out because I liked you," Jesse said, trying to convince Rachel of his sincerity. "But when Shelby saw us together in the auditorium, she encouraged me to use our relationship to find out more about New Directions: your strengths and weaknesses. Maybe your set list. I agreed because 'love is love, and business is business.' That's what I thought then, but I know now that's not true."

Rachel's face was a mask put in place to hide her hurt at Jesse's words.

He continued: "You want to know what I told Shelby? That you don't even _have _a set list, and you probably won't until the week of Regionals. That it wouldn't matter if she _did_ have your set list, since you could just throw together a new one like you did at Sectionals. Your choir's strength is its weakness. Every other choir in the state picks out their set and rehearses it until they could perform it in their sleep. You guys just go wherever your emotions take you: new songs and choreography every week. You cook up all of this love and hate and drama in your personal lives, and you use it like fuel."

"Rachel," Shelby began, cautiously, "I didn't tell Jesse to transfer to McKinley. In fact, I was pissed!"

I saw a glimmer of life in Rachel's eyes at the woman's genuine tone of annoyance.

"But Jesse," Shelby continued, in a professional tone, "if you want to come back, you can. I can't promise you the lead: you'll have to audition on a song-by-song basis, to be fair to the others who picked up the slack in your absence."

"Stay," Brittany exclaimed, "Your voice is pretty!"

"Britt," Santana replied with a chastising tone.

"Brittany's right," Will said. "You're talented, and we love having you. If you'd like to stay, you're welcome to, right guys?" The students nodded or murmured their assent (though with varying levels of enthusiasm.) "We appreciate your honesty. And you're right: sometimes we let our personal drama get in our own way." His eyes tried to catch mine. "But we put our hearts into everything we do, and that's what makes us great."

I saw doubt flicker across Jesse's face. It was the only time I'd seen the boy look less than completely confident. That flash of humanity made me like him more. "Can I think about it?" he asked.

"Of course," Will replied.

"But not too long," Shelby added. "I would have to know in time to order the customized costumes and adjust blocking."

"Well, it sounds like that's as settled as it's going to get for now," I said. "Jesse can return to Vocal Adrenaline or stay in New Directions. Either choir would be glad to have him. So why don't we dismiss practice. And Rachel, we can have a talk."

"But…" her eyes widened, and the poor girl looked terrified. "But it's so close to regionals. We can't just blow off practice!"

"How about this," Will said, "Everyone, do you promise to go home and practice your parts?" Everyone nodded. As the students filed out of the room, Kurt and Mercedes looked like missing out on whatever was coming next was physically painful. Jesse surprised Rachel by kissing her cheek.

"You know Vocal Adrenaline will be harder to beat if I go back," he said. "I don't know if I would be so generous in your position."

"Of course you would," she replied. "You gave up everything for me, remember? You're a better person than you seem to think."

Rachel's words shocked me. I'd never seen this side of her before. I'd heard a bit about it. During a session with Finn after the Babygate scandal broke, he'd said that besides his mom and Will— Rachel was the only one who believed there was more to Finn than football and popularity. Recently, I had called Quinn to my office to talk, and she'd cried about how the girl she'd been so cruel to took her in and treated her lovingly.

After a night janitor discovered the fight club operating in the parking lot, I'd asked Puck about his role in it. He'd said, "I know it's dumb, Ms. P., but I gotta do something. Since I knocked Quinn up, I've been trying to give up cougars and banging random cheerios, but it's hard. It makes me want to mess somebody up. With fight club, at least it's kids who _want_ to get hit. I mean, I could go back to throwing slushies, running geeks up flagpoles or throwing them in dumpsters. But then I hear Berry's voice in my head: 'You're a better man than that, _Noah._' It's annoying, but I kinda want it to be true, you know?"

"I'm not going unless you want me to," Quinn told Rachel.

"I don't care if you _do_ want me to, I'm not going," Puck added. "This witch abandoned you, then tried to get your boyfriend to spy on you, and now she wants to pretend everything's awesome because you both like Streisand? Hell, no!"

"Noah, stop projecting. She didn't abandon me. She merely…fulfilled her role in the contract."

"You're not a contract, Rachel, you're her kid! You can't just have a kid and walk away!"

Quinn's chin started to tremble.

"You can," Shelby piped up. "You can if it's better for the kid than having you around. Maybe you're too young, or too messed up to be good for anyone, let alone a baby." Subconsciously, her hand rested on her belly. "You try not to love it: it's stretched your body out of shape, made you puke your guts out or pee every five minutes, and it almost tore you in two during labor. But you end up loving her anyway, because she's a part of you. She was there when you felt alone. Then you hand her off to these people who you just know will love her more than anyone has ever loved anything. More than anyone has ever loved _you. _So you walk away, because she's better off."

When Shelby switched from "it" to "her," Rachel dropped her stoic mask and cried. Quinn was crying, too, though probably for different reasons.

"They do, you know." Rachel said softly. "They love me more than anyone has ever loved anything."

"Yeah?" Shelby asked with a big smile as one tear fell.

"Yes. But if I'm being honest? I missed having a mom. I wondered why you didn't want to be in my life. Where were you when I _needed_ you?"

"Look, I was young and broke, dreaming of making it big on Broadway, when I saw your dads' add in Back Stage. I thought, 'Make some money, help some nice guys have a kid. Why not?' I didn't sign on for motherhood. I couldn't stay here! I was moving to New York as soon as I lost the baby weight. That was the plan. I tried, but I never made it big. Eventually, I gave up and came home to Ohio. I didn't want to confuse things, or make it harder for you and your dads, though, so I stayed away. Besides, I'm a perfectionist—hypercritical. What could I give you advice on, boys? My love life's a disaster. Trust me, your daddy's a better mom than I ever would have been."

Will had blushed when Shelby characterized her love life as a disaster, and I had to stop myself from laughing.

"But we're both here now, for whatever reason. It doesn't feel like an accident. I know it sounds crazy, but I had a dream about you last night," Shelby said. "I was standing outside your house..."

"Holy fuck!" Puck exclaimed.

"NOAH!" Rachel admonished.

I wondered about their exchange, but neither seemed likely to explain just then. Shelby took a card out of her wallet and jotted on the back.

"That's my cell number," she said, handing Rachel the card. "Call me if you need anything. Um…if you're okay, I'm going to go. Are you okay?"

She scrutinized Rachel's face. Rachel nodded, and Shelby headed for the door.

"Wait!" Rachel exclaimed. Then she slowly crossed the room and wrapped her birthmother in a hug. Shelby held her arms up awkwardly, then gingerly patted the small brunette's back. When Rachel let her go, Shelby squeezed Rachel's hand briefly and dashed away, her high heels clacking on the linoleum.

"Let's go home," Quinn said softly, a protective hand on her own swollen belly, and she and Noah Puckermen guided Rachel away, leaving me alone with Will and my thoughts.

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**AN- Thanks for reading. Drop a line to tell me what you thought, or to make any comments or requests.**


	22. Chapter22 Shelby: Always Be a Part of Me

**AN- Thank you for reading and reviewing. It means so much to me.**

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I don't know what to sing. Singing always made me feel better, but there was no song for this.

I sat at the piano and started playing and singing: "_Nothing's gonna harm you, not while I'm around. Nothing's gonna harm you, no sir, not while I'm around. Demons are prowling everywhere nowadays. I'll send them howling, I don't care. I've got ways. No one's gonna hurt you; no one's gonna dare. Others can desert you…" _My fingers stilled on the keys, and I began searching for something else, some other song.

My fingers began to stroke the keys again. At first, I didn't realize what song I was playing. The words hit me, mid-verse, so I began to sing: _"…and you should know it's love that brought you here. And in one perfect night, when the stars burned like new, I knew what I must do! I'll give you a million things I'll never own. I'll give you a world to conquer when you're grown. You will be who you want to be. You…can choose whatever heaven grants. As long as you can have your chance, I swear I'll give my life for you." _

I stopped again with a bitter laugh. The tone was right for how I felt, but the story was all wrong. In "Miss Saigon," Kim was willing to die to save her child. All I did was walk away. Surely that's not the same. But in a way it _felt_ the same—like I lost a part of me when I left her. I've been to support groups for surrogates and women who gave up babies for adoption, and some of them seem so happy about it, so content, and I envied them. Sometimes I felt that way—most times, perhaps. But there were nights when I'd dream Rachel was crying, or that she was sick, and there was nothing I could do about it.

Ever since I'd told Jesse to gather information on Rachel and New Directions, my dreams of her had become more frequent. In my dreams, I kept hurting her, just by being near. In the most recent dreams, to protect her I stayed away. She would call to me through the windows and beckon through the open door. Still, I stayed back.

And now, today, she had called me for real, pretending to be Will's assistant. She had spoken confidently in quick, clipped tones. I had wondered, _who is this woman? _ Part of me had been annoyed by her persistence, but part of me wanted to meet her, and perhaps become friends. There aren't a lot of women I click with in small-town Ohio.

In New York, we'd been a-dime-a-dozen: brash, confident girls who wanted to make it big. Two-thirds of the waitresses and bartenders in New York aren't "really" actresses and bartenders. They're actors waiting for their big break, going to casting calls, and putting on showcases off-off-Broadway. Half the time, the only people we had in the audience were each other. Success in show business is preparation plus talent plus luck, and I only had two of the three. Or maybe the third ingredient isn't luck: maybe it's unwavering belief that you're going to make it big.

I wavered.

With every audition, I loved it a little less. I began to feel desperate, and when that happens? Baby, you're done. The only people who like desperate women less than straight men are casting directors.

So I went home to Ohio and got a teaching degree. I decided to make my students stars, and in doing so became famous myself…in some circles. I had tried to focus on Vocal Adrenaline, tried to use it to maintain the distance between Rachel and me. I should have known it could only draw her closer.

Since I'd moved back to Carmel, music had drawn Rachel into my orbit time and again. Little did she know I'd seen her perform in pageants when I'd been hired to coach her competitors. I'd judged her in talent shows— completely impartially, of course, because throwing the competition would only hurt Rachel's development as a performer. When she had been less than the best, she had lost, and when she had been the top act, I had scored her accordingly.

This year, I realized that she wasn't just talented: she had _it. _Something had changed in her: in her face and in her voice. On Jesse's recommendation, I'd watched YouTube videos of New Directions at Sectionals, and I knew: Rachel Berry was our competition. _This is no different from the pageants,_ I'd thought. _Just do your job. Anything less is a disservice to Rachel. If she's going to be a star, she has to experience the realities of competition. _So I asked him to get information on her and New Directions, the same way I would have with the lead of any other choir.

But today, when I saw her in that choir room, everything had changed. It was the first time since she was an infant that I saw her offstage: no costume, no character to play, and no Show Smile. She was so much tinier than she looked when she sang.

"I missed having a mom," she'd said. "I wondered why you didn't want to be in my life. Where were you when I _needed_ you?"

First, I was in New York trying to be a star. Then I was in Carmel, making terrible decisions. I was making out with gay glee club directors, teaching high school students to sing while walking on their hands, hiring despotic dwarf choreographers and ordering the brightest spotlight in the state. I was singing the National Anthem at football games and giving vocal lessons and coaching pageant contestants. I was awakening in the night from dreams of a crying brunette, and forcing myself not to drive to Lima.

Finally, the right song came to mind. The piano chords were rich and full, strong enough to support me as I sang:

"_Goodnight, my angel. Now it's time to sleep, and still so many things I want to say. Remember all the songs you sang for me, when we went sailing on an emerald bay? And like a boat out on the ocean, I'm rocking you to sleep. The water's dark and deep inside this ancient heart. You'll always be a part of me." _

The bridge was dark and mournful, and I vocalized along until the brighter music of the verses returned: _"Goodnight, my angel. Now it's time to dream, and dream how wonderful your life will be. Someday your child may cry, and if you sing this lullaby, then in your heart, there will always be a part of me."_

I picked up my phone and called 411. The operator put my call through to the Berrys' landline. "Hello, Alex? Ben? It's Shelby Corcoran. I don't know if Rachel told you, but we met today. I didn't seek her out; it just happened. I think she wants me to be a part of her life. I've given her my phone number, but I didn't want to do anything else until we all got a chance to think it through and discuss. Call me, okay?"

My fingers returned to the ivories for the closing coda: _"Someday we'll all be gone, but lullabies go on and on. They never die. That's how you and I will be."_

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** AN: The songs are "Not While I'm Around" from Sweeney Todd, "I'd Give My Life for You" from Miss Saigon and "Lullaby" by Billy Joel.**


	23. Chapter 23 Puck: The Luckiest People

**AN: A Puck chapter was requested, so here it is! Warning:**** Puck's still got a potty mouth. **** Also, lots of spoilers for the movie "Funny Girl."**

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So, it was a Friday night. I should have been off at some party drinking and trying to hook up with some Cheerio. Or I should have been rubbing my baby-mama's feet, trying _not_ to go trolling for Cheerios. Instead, I was sitting on a couch with Rachel Berry in my lap…but not in a fun, sexy way. See, Quinn and I got her home and walked her inside. Quinn went to go make some tea, and Rachel started crying, so I gave her a hug. Well, that just made her cry harder. The crying went on for a while, and my legs got tired, so I just sat down and kinda pulled Berry with me. That's how she ended up in my lap.

Finally, Quinn showed up with the tea. (Seriously, how long does it take to boil some fucking water?) And Berry was curled up all tiny, crying so much my shirt was getting wet.

Quinn mouthed, "What did you do?"

I glared at her and mouthed, "Nothing. HELP ME!"

Rachel sniffled. "What are you guys doing?"

"Nothing, sweetie," Quinn replied. "I brought you some chamomile tea. Why don't we put in a movie? 'Funny Girl'?"

I glared at Quinn again. Of all the movies to suggest, she had to pick that one? Musicals were annoying, but some—like Grease, Rent or Sweeney Todd—were slightly less annoying. (Actually, Sweeney Todd is awesome.) But Rachel nodded at Quinn's suggestion, sniffling some more. About twenty minutes in, she moved from my lap to sit beside me, belting along with Babs to "I'm the Greatest Star" and "I'd Rather Be Blue," so maybe Quinn made the right pick.

Barbra Streisand plays Fanny Brice, a Jewish chick who loves to sing. Because she had a kinda-big schnoz, no one seems to get that she's hot and destined to be a star. Omar Sharif is the one guy who gets it: Nick, a pretty-boy gambler who ends up in jail.

In the scene when Fanny notices the polish on Nick's nails, I told Berry, "That's when she should have known she couldn't trust him."

"Noah!" Rachel replied, sounding scandalized, "Though their love ended badly, it was an important part of her life and her drive as an artist."

"Whatever, babe. Never trust a straight guy wearing nail polish!"

I checked out for a while, thinking about what had happened at glee practice, the shit Rachel's mom said about giving up a kid, and the fact that Rach and her mom had a weirdly similar dream. I know Berry claimed to be "a little bit psychic," but I figured she was full of it, like when she told me she won a dance contest when she was three months old. Yeah, she'd figured out that I was the one who got Quinn pregnant, not Finn, but the _real_ shocker was that no one had figured that out sooner. This stuff with her mom, though, was both cool and creepy. _I better never piss her off, _I thought, _or she could murder me with her brain, like Carrie__. _

There was a scene in "Funny Girl" with a bunch of hot chicks in sparkly bikinis, so I paid attention for a while. Then, during a part when Nick's hitting on Fanny outside her mom's saloon (_how awesome would it be if Ma ran a saloon?)_, Rachel took my hand and looked right at me as Fanny said, "You can get lonesome being that free," and Nick shot back, "You can get lonesome being that busy."

"Now who'd think to look at us that we've got the same problem?" Fanny replied. I smiled, knowing what Rachel was thinking.

Then she was singing along with Barbra again: "_People…people who need people…are the luckiest people in the world."_ I hoped she was paying attention to the words. She's not good at needing people. Me neither.

_"Lovers…are very special people. They're the luckiest people in the world."_ Rachel snuck a glance at me, so I wiggled my eyebrows suggestively. She laughed, but was quickly singing again. Quinn tried to pretend she didn't notice any of this. She seemed surprisingly cool with Berry and me curled up on the couch. In fact, she had helped make it happen, bringing us a blanket and a box of tissues when we first sat down so Rach wouldn't have to leave my side. At one point, I think she even snapped a pic of us with her cell and sent it to someone.

My mom had watched this movie all the time when I was growing up, so I knew the songs and the basic plot, but I'd never actually sat down and watched it. I could tell Rach was thinking about how much we were like Nick and Fanny—a gleek and a badass.

"We're not them," I whispered, after Nick told Fanny that he never made plans because they made him feel "too tied down." She actually looked disappointed. "No, I mean, there are girls you say that shit to, and there are girls you make plans with. He's too dumb to know that she's a girl you make plans with." She gave me a huge smile, then resumed singing "People" with the Barbra. Berry's voice gave me chills.

Then the house phone rang, and the Rachel let the answering machine get it. "Hello, Alex? Ben? It's Shelby," a voice echoed from the machine's speakers. "I don't know if Rachel told you, but we met today. I didn't seek her out; it just happened. I think she wants me to be a part of her life. I've given her my phone number, but I didn't want to do anything else until we all got a chance to think it through and discuss. Call me, okay?"

"She's having second thoughts," Berry whispered.

"No, she isn't," Quinn replied. "She probably has an agreement with your dads and doesn't want to step on anyone's toes."

She seemed lost in thought. Then, the one scene I really like started, where Nick sings to Fanny to get her into bed. Nick's kind of a douche, but I had to give him props for that move. When a girl loves music, singing is the way into her heart, and her pants.

Berry still looked so sad, and I knew the easiest way to cheer her up. It was going to be dorky, but I'd never seen her this upset, so I sang along with Omar Sharif: _"You are woman and I am man."_ She giggled in surprise. I stood and pulled her to her feet and danced with her as I sang, _"You are smaller so I can be taller than. You are softer to the touch. It's a feeling I like feeling very much." _I ran my hand down her body. Like I said before, dancing rules. You get to touch hot chicks and they think it's romantic. I dipped Berry before the second verse: "_You are someone I've admired. Still our friendship leaves something to be desired. Does it take more explanation than this? You are woman I am man. Let's kiss."_

Rachel pulled away and sang Fanny's verse: _"__Isn't this the height of nonchalance, furnishing a bed in restaurants? Well, a bit of dinner never hurt, but guess who is gonna be dessert?" _I imitated Nick, slowly chasing her around the room, stroking her skin when I got close enough. Quinn was laughing, and I was trying hard to keep a straight face as Rachel hammed it up. I'd never really seen Berry do comedy before, and I almost lost it when she sang, _"What a beast to ruin such a pearl! Would a convent take a Jewish girl?"_

I managed to stay cool while singing my next line: _"Does it take more explanation than this?"_

_"Ooo the thrills and chills going through me."_ The way she sang it was totally hot, but the next second she was being silly again: _"If I stop him now, can he sue me?"_

I took her into my arms and sang, seductive as fuck, _"You are woman."_

_"You are man," _she replied.

_"Let's…"_ And I must have gotten caught up in the scene, because I had dipped Berry again, and my lips were almost on hers. Then I heard someone clapping and almost dropped her; Rachel's dads were home from work, and Ben was giving us a round of applause.

"Wow," Alex said, looking puzzled. I straightened Rach back up. She was blushing, and for some reason, I liked it.

"That was amazing, you two!" Ben said. "Noah, you know 'Funny Girl'? I knew you were a keeper!"

"Um, maybe I should go," I said.

"What is this, straight-boy-musical-shame? I thought you could just get around that now by saying 'no homo,'" Ben teased.

I nervously ran my hand through my Mohawk. "No, it's not that. It's just…you guys have family stuff to deal with."

"We do?" Alex asked.

"Wait," Rachel said, softly. "Stay?"

I nodded and took her hand. By this point, Quinn had stopped the movie and gotten out of her chair. She put an arm around Rachel's waist.

"Dad, Daddy, I think you should listen to the message on the answering machine." I rolled my eyes, because _of course _Berry had to do this the most dramatic was possible. She couldn't just say, "Dads, I met Shelby, and I want to hang out with her."

Her dads looked stunned by Shelby's message.

"How did this happen?" Ben asked.

Rachel told the story in great detail, working that story like it was a monologue she was giving in a Broadway play. The girl definitely was good with a story. Her fathers looked angry when Rachel talked about Shelby's attempt at spying, concerned when they heard about Rachel's problems with Jesse, and emotional when she recited Shelby's speech on why she stayed away from Rachel.

"Do you want her in your life, baby?" Ben asked.

"I…I think so. Well, on the one hand, I am appalled that she tried to use my relationship with Jesse to give Vocal Adrenaline an edge, but on the other hand, I understand how the thrill of competition can lead one to cross a moral line." She blushed, and I remembered the rumors that she'd gotten creepy Mr. Ryerson fired because he kept giving some boy all the solos. I mean, no one doubted that he was feeling the kid up, so it's not like Berry _lied. _More like she told for all the wrong reasons, and without thinking about what it would do to the poor kid, who was so embarrassed that he transferred to another school.

"Well," Alex piped up, "The contract we drew up with Shelby didn't give her any legal rights as your guardian, but it doesn't prevent her from being part of your life, either." He looked at Ben, and they did that married-people-silent-communication thing. "If you would like to spend time with her, we support you."

"It…it wouldn't hurt your feelings?" Rachel asked, timidly.

"No, baby," Ben, aka "Daddy," replied. "We know we're your parents and you love us. If Shelby's ready to love you, too, then that's great. Now if you decide you like her _better…"_ He looked a little nervous at that thought.

"That could never happen, Daddy," Rachel exclaimed, letting go of Quinn and me to hug and kiss Ben. "Even Shelby says you're a better mom than she could ever be!"

Then she started hugging and kissing Alex, too. Alex teared up a little, and Ben teased him: "You're supposed to be the tough guy!"

"Shut up, dear," Alex grumbled before blowing his nose. Ben laughed and kissed Alex before pulling out his phone to order supper for all of us. That's how I ended up back on the couch with Rachel and Quinn. Alex and Ben took the armchairs, and we were all eating Chinese food and watching Funny Girl. I looked at my friend/baby-mama on my left and my…Rachel Berry on my right. They both prodded me during "Don't Rain on My Parade," trying to get me to sing along, but I have my limits. I rolled my eyes as the other four sang the song to me. Weirdest Friday night ever.

A while later, Quinn got up to use the bathroom and change into pajamas. The dads went to the kitchen to put away leftovers and pour themselves glasses of wine. I looked down and saw that Rach had fallen asleep, so I grabbed a pillow and put it in my lap. Then I shifted her head down to the pillow so she could sleep more comfortably. Her hair was so soft that I couldn't help but touch it.

I realized I was the only one still watching the damn movie and wished the remote was in reach. Watching "Funny Girl" to cheer Berry up was okay, but since she was sleeping, I'd rather be watching the game. For a while, I tried to get the remote off the coffee table using my feet, but eventually I gave up.

Nick was on the screen begging Fanny to divorce him, because he was afraid he'd never "catch up" to her. "I don't worry about you," Nick tells Fanny. "Once you're on that stage, nothing bothers you […] You're the strongest woman in the whole world."

That's the kind of fucked-up thinking that gets a guy throwing slushies. Women like Fanny and Barbra and Rachel? They know what they want, and they don't let anything get in their way. You can be jealous of it or you can get it through your thick skull how awesome they are and get the fuck on board. But just because they're good at pretending nothing gets to them, that doesn't mean that nothing _does. _I felt bad about how long it took me to get that, but at least I was faster than Nick. Barbra started singing "My Man."

"You know she sang this live," Rachel said, sounding really sleepy. "With Omar Sharif in the wings. They were having an affair, and they knew it would end when the shoot was over. All the other songs were lip-synched. But the director did this one live to get the emotion right."

"It's weird," I said. "The words are about crawling back to the guy, but…"

"But she sound so strong," Rachel said. "Triumphant. The real Fanny Brice sang it differently: much sadder. Barbra cut the lines about her man beating her, too."

"There's a real Fanny Brice?" I asked, just to rile her.

She sat up and looked shocked: "Noah! Of course there's a real Fanny Brice. Haven't you been listening to me? I already told you about the film's exclusion of Fanny's first husband and…"

I couldn't help laughing, and she grabbed the pillow from my lap and whacked me with it.

"Berry, violence isn't the answer!" I teased. I grabbed her, pulled the pillow from her hands, and the next thing I knew, I was kissing Rachel Barbra Berry. I was kissing her in the living room to a Barbra Streisand soundtrack with her "two gay dads" and my baby-mama in the house. And it was so hot I'm surprised out clothes didn't catch fire. When I let her go, Berry shocked the hell out of me by jumping up into my arms and wrapping her legs around my waist. She was grabbing the back of my neck with one hand and her fingers were in my 'hawk with the other. I tried to tell her with that kiss everything I'd been thinking about her all night. I was getting seriously into it, which Rach could feel, since she was pressed so close. Seriously, the girl smirked at me!

"Rach," I said, trying to pry her loose, "We gotta stop. We're going to get busted!"

"Who cares? I thought you were a badass!"

"Dude, I basically knocked up your sister, okay? It's going to be hard enough convincing your dads to let me date you."

"You want to _date_ me?" She looked shocked and relaxed her grip, sliding to the floor in a way that was both awesome and torturous. I groaned.

"Yeah, Berry. I told you: some girls, you make plans with."

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**Review, please! I really appreciate every single one. Those of you who review regularly, including CRP Angel, Lil0, MiladyBronwyn, Chamberlain of Music and Casmeriditemione, I adore you! (If you're a regular and I missed giving you a shout-out or misspelled your name, let me know, and I will rectify my egregious error.**


	24. Chapter 24 Finn: Coming Back

**AN: Wow! The response to chapter 23 was amazing. I'm glad, because I spent way too much time writing it. I know a lot of you don't dig Finn, but I still love him. Of course, you know my philosophy is about loving everyone. I just love Finn _more_ when he's not with Rachel. Enjoy!  
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I walked up to Rachel's house and raised my hand to knock on the door. I put my hand down, then reached up to knock again.

"You don't want to go in there."

"Ah!" I yelped. Quinn was sitting in the porch swing sipping tea in her pajamas. I hadn't noticed her sitting there. I took a deep breath and waited for my heartbeat to go back to normal.

"Puck and Rachel are pretty cozy, and I doubt you want to see it."

"I know. I saw the picture already," I told her.

"What? I only sent that picture to Tina and Britt!"

"Yeah, well, Santana did some forwarding."

"And you came to break it up?"

"Actually, I came to see how you're doing." I plunked down beside her. I could see Quinn's breath, and she shivered, so I put my arm around her. She looked surprised.

"Don't!" she snapped, shrugging off my arm. "Don't come here and _hold _me if you don't mean it."

"I do mean it," I said. I prayed for the right words. "Kurt says I'm an idiot. When I got the picture from Santana, he just looked at my face and said, 'What's stopping you? Go to Quinn, you idiot!' And I couldn't think of anything that _was _stopping me. I'm tired of being mad and trying to make myself not love you anymore. I miss you and I…I even miss Drizzle."

"We did this before," she yelled. "We tried to be in love again. It didn't work!"

"Because we had all those secrets. Now we don't! I know about Puck and you know about Rach. We know everything."

"You're still mad," she hissed. "Deep down, you know you're still mad."

"Kurt says it's just my pride."

"Kurt says? _Kurt_ says?" She got up and started pacing, fast, hands on her belly. She was wearing pink pajamas with dessert all over them: pies and cakes and cookies. Looking at her, it was hard not to smile.

"He's pretty smart about relationship stuff," I told her. "I know he used to have a crush on me or whatever, but he says now that we're probably going to be stepbrothers, that's kind of gross. So he's moving on, but he wants me to be happy, and he says I'd be happiest with you."

"Do you have any idea how lame that sounds, that you're here because _Kurt_ said you should come?"

"Yeah, I know. I'm not good with this stuff, okay. It's just…when he said it, I knew it was true. I miss you, and I love you. I want you back, Quinn."

"And what happens when Rachel's single again?"

"The messed-up thing is, I wanted Rach more when she wasn't single. That's how I know she and I aren't right together."

"And what about me? You stopped wanting _me._"

"It was like I was watching you disappear," I said. "When I met you, you were so awesome. You would hold my hand and smile at me. When you kissed me, I could tell you loved me. And then Sue made you captain of the Cheerios, and everything changed. It was so slow that didn't notice it, but _you_ changed. You stopped eating. You stopped being nice to people. You stopped being nice to _me_. Yeah, part of me is hurt that you slept with Puck. I don't get why, if you wanted to have sex, you picked him and not me. But since you got pregnant, it's like…it's like you've been coming back, Quinn."

"It wasn't like that, you know," Quinn said. "It's not like I wanted sex and thought, 'I pick Puck.' I hated my life: my family, my body, who I'd become. I just needed to escape. I needed to escape _everything_—even the best thing in my life: you. I know that's messed up. I know that. But I'm trying to change. I am, Finn."

My heart felt all flippy and big in my chest. She swiped away her tears. I wanted to hug her so tight and kiss her until we couldn't think about anything else.

"What are you playing with?" she asked me.

I looked down at my hands. I hadn't even realized it, but I was holding her barrette, running my fingers over the white plastic daisies. I held it out to her.

"Did you bring that back for me?"

"No," I admitted. "I…I carry it in my pocket. I have since you left. You can have it back if you want it, though."

"You can keep it," she whispered, so I slipped it back in my pocket. She was crying again. "You know, tonight we were watching a movie, and this guy was giving this girl a line about how he doesn't make commitments. He doesn't make plans, because they make him feel tied down. And Puck turns to Rachel and tells her, 'there are girls you say that shit to, and there are girls you make plans with.' Last year, I knew which kind of girl I was, but now? When Puck was with me, there were no plans. He was chatting up Cheerios in the halls at school. But with Rachel, he…"

"That's about him, not about you," I said. "Even when things were bad, I had plans for us."

Quinn raised an eyebrow. "Ruling the school? Head Cheerio and captain of the football team?"

"No. It was normal stuff: school dances, going swimming during summer vacation, visiting colleges, and filling out applications for schools and scholarships. Maybe even going to the same college. Even…stuff after that." I couldn't tell her that sometimes I pictured us getting married and having kids. It just seemed like too much pressure to put on her.

"And now?" she asked. "What plans do you have for us now?"

"I want to walk into school on Monday holding your hand. When you go into labor, I want to be there for you. Whatever you decide about the baby, I want to be there for that, too. And I still want all that other stuff I used to want for us."

I reached out and brushed her tears away with my thumbs. When I bent down to kiss her, the kiss was salty. Her belly was between us, and it was bigger than when she moved out. I mean, I knew it was, but knowing it and _feeling_ it were two different things.

"Can I?" I gestured at her stomach. She nodded, so I kneeled and put my hands on her belly. "Hey, baby girl," I said. I felt movement under my hand. Our eyes met, and Quinn smiled. It was the most beautiful smile I'd ever seen.

I had a big lump in my throat, but I smiled back. I stood, slid my hands into her hair and kissed her. It had been so long since we'd kissed this way. Her hands were on my face, and her lips were so soft. She tasted like peaches and cinnamon. I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her close. We kissed and kissed until I had to pull away.

"Uh-uh," Quinn purred, giggling. "Get back over here! Just…think of the mailman." And then she kissed me again.

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**Please take a moment to review. I adore reviews! Also, who should we hear from next? Matt (whose character I would have to make up completely since--as far as I can remember-- the poor boy has never had a single line)? Mike (who once spoke the oh-so-revealing line, "It'll be choppy.")? Omniscient narrator? Rachel's dads? Someone else entirely? Drop a comment.**


	25. Chapter 25: Ben Berry: Who Could Ask

**AN- Short one. Longer one ASAP, I promise.  
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As we speak, my daughter is in the living room making out with the sluttiest boy in Lima, the father of my honorary daughter's baby. That honorary daughter is on the front porch making out with the dimmest boy in Lima, an ex-boyfriend she and my daughter have in common. And I couldn't be happier. Tomorrow this might all end messily, but tonight life is good. My girls are happy. They have each other and frighteningly handsome young men who care about them. What more could a man ask for? Alex says my problem is that I'm a hopeless romantic. I say his problem is that he _isn't._

Almost seventeen years ago, we wanted a baby more than anything. We looked into adoption, but agencies weren't quite as helpful to gay couples as they are now. Besides, we decided it would be nice to have a baby with our DNA, and a killer mom's genes while we were at it. We placed some ads and managed to find the lovely and talented Shelby Corcoran. It was perfect. After Shelby got pregnant, she moved in with us. We put her on a diet and exercise regimen and played classical music to her belly. We watched musicals together and spent evenings singing around the piano.

All too soon, Rachel's due date was upon us. We rushed to the hospital, where we had a private birthing room. It was softly lit, and music was playing. We held Shelby's hands while she screamed and pushed, and then there our little angel was! The nurses cleaned Rachel off and handed her to me. Alex and I held her in our arms. When I thanked Shelby, we were all crying.

Shelby moved out the next day. "It's awfully quick, don't you think?" I asked her.

"The longer I wait, the harder it will be," she said. And that was the last we saw of her. She'd said she was moving to New York, and who knows: maybe she did. Years later, I thought I saw her at a few pageants and contests, but I wasn't sure it was her, so I didn't say anything.

And now she's back. Alex said the contract didn't prevent Shelby from being part of Rachel's life. Well, that's not entirely true. The contract said Shelby couldn't _initiate_ contact until Rachel was 18.

We were so afraid that Shelby would change her mind and try to keep our little star. Back then, could we have trusted a judge to rule in our favor over Rachel's straight, young biological mother? She was just a little older than Quinn is now, and I feel awful about what we did: letting our fear of losing Rachel cost her a relationship with her mom.

Alex wrapped his arms around my waist and said, "What are you thinking about?" His voice was deep and comforting.

"Shelby. We were too scared to let her see Rachel and be part of her life. How could we deprive them of that?"

"Ben, we were trying to do the right thing. We were following the lawyer's suggestions. And Shelby said she was fine with it."

"She said that, but you saw her face the day she moved out."

"What's done is done," Alex said. "Now we have two great girls who are actually getting along. Shelby's back in Rachel's life, and Rachel seems happy about it. We have each other and our home and our health."

"Who could ask for anything more?" I asked.

"Now I know you're feeling better," Alex laughed, "You're quoting Gershwin."

I picked up the phone and called Shelby Corcoran, ready to invite her back into our lives.

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**You asked for one of Rachel's dads' points of view, and you got it. Next up: Mike, a.k.a "Other Asian." A few of you mentioned that, although Matt never has lines, he does some primo mugging for the camera. Word! And I have been there: _You don't want to give me lines? FINE! I'll just be over here acting with my FACE!_**


	26. Chapter 26 Rachel: Mirrored

**I'm not ready for a Mike chapter yet, but I'm pretty sure you'll forgive me for changing my plans.  
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"Puck, are you staying the night?" Daddy asked.

Noah froze in the middle of kissing me. His eyes got all wide, like he'd been caught doing something wrong.

"Is this a trick?" he whispered to me, and I giggled.

Then Dad said, "Honey, don't you think we should ask Rachel if that's what _she _wants before inviting him to stay over?"

This was new territory, but I wasn't too surprised. My fathers have a rather liberal attitude toward sex. They taught me to wait until I was both physically and emotionally ready, to always use protection, and to understand that sex with the right person is natural, beautiful and fun. When I started puberty, my dads gave me a sex talk, a box of condoms and a gift certificate to Toys in Babeland, a sex toy shop their friend Sharon recommended. Sharon also offered to give me advice on picking out my first vibrator, but I found Internet research to be sufficient.

"I'd love it if you stayed, Noah, but we'd have to get your mother's permission," I said.

"Seriously?" he asked

"We should invite Finn, too," Daddy mused.

"WHAT?" Noah asked, turning purple. Dad and Daddy both looked at him like he was crazy.

"Well, he and Quinn are making out on the front porch. It would be rude to invite you and not him," Daddy said.

"Are you being territorial over our Quinn?" Dad asked. "You can't have both girls, Puckerman. They deserve better than that."

"Oh, no, sir! I'm glad Quinn and Finn made up. I just…misunderstood what you were proposing at first."

For a second my dads looked confused, but then they caught on. I've never seen them laugh so hard. Daddy was doubled over, and Dad had to wipe away tears.

"We're pretty liberal, kid, but we're not going to arrange a threesome for our 16-year-old daughter!" Dad managed to get out between bouts of laughter.

By then, I was laughing, too, and Noah was blushing—a rare sight, indeed. Once we got our laughter under control, I was nominated to issue the invitation to Quinn and Finn. First, I knocked on the front door. Then I peeked outside. 

"Hey, guys. Sorry to interrupt," I said. Finn stood behind Quinn, quite flushed, while Quinn tried (but failed) to look unaffected by their make-out session. "Quinn, can I speak to you for one second?" She gave me a funny look, but grabbed her tea off the porch railing and stepped inside.

"Rachel, I thought you were okay with this!"

"I am, honestly! Dad and Daddy want to know if Finn is spending the night." She dropped the tea. Luckily, the mug didn't break, but the tea spilled.

"Why would he be spending the night?" Quinn whispered. She looked scandalized, hopeful and scared all at once.

"Because Dad and Daddy don't mind. As long as we make healthy, responsible choices, we can have our boyfriends sleep over. Well, on weekends. On school nights, we have to get plenty of rest."

Her jaw dropped.

"What if we all slept in the living room? Then you could have some bonding time with Finn, but there wouldn't be as much…pressure," I proposed.

A smile stretched across her face, and she gave me an impetuous kiss on the cheek. "I love you, Berry!"

I tried to reply as casually, even though my heart felt like it was going to explode from happiness: "I love you, too, Fabray."

As Finn and Quinn walked in, I was cleaning up the spilled tea.

"Hey, Puck," Finn said.

"Hey, Finn" responded Noah, who had been standing right behind me, watching me scrub the floor on my hands and knees.

"Noah!" I said, scandalized, realizing that my short skirt was probably giving Noah quite the view.

"Sorry, Rach. I came to see if you needed help, but somehow I got…distracted."

"So," Finn asked, "this is an actual thing that, like, is happening?"

"Yeah, man. It was their dads' idea."

I liked the way Noah said "their dads' idea," not "her dads' idea." It was like Quinn had gone from enemy to friend to sister.

"Yes. We're all going to sleep in the living room tonight. We'll watch movies and eat popcorn. What do you think?"

"I guess I'll tell my Mom I'm at Mike's," Finn said.

"Good call," Noah agreed.

"What? Why should you lie? Finn, not to be crass, but Quinn is already pregnant. What harm could possibly come of sharing a bed with her? And Noah, your mother must be aware of your reputation around town. Surely spending the night with me would be a step up in her opinion."

"Too big of a step up, Berry. She'll start reserving synagogues and carving a chuppah with her own two hands."

"Call your mother. I'll talk to her," I said.

He raised an eyebrow, but did as I asked.

"Ma, Rachel wants to talk to you. Nothing. I swear, Mom, I didn't do anything. Here! Talk to Berry."

"Mrs. Puckerman, how are you today? Mm-hmm. Oh, I'm so glad to hear that. Mrs. Puckerman, I had a distressing day, and Noah was kind enough to help me through it. I was wondering if he could stay the night? We're having a mini glee-club sleepover. It's an opportunity for some of us to reconnect and mend fences. My dads will be here. Oh, I'm sure he'll be a perfect gentleman." Noah was smirking at me, so I winked at him. He must have been expecting me to scold him, because his eyes widened in surprise, and his lips shifted from a teasing smirk to an actual smile. Mrs. Puckerman agreed to let Noah stay if I would promise to come to Shabbat dinner the following week. When I informed Noah of the caveat, he groaned.

"Berry, we don't _do_ Shabbat dinner at my house. We do TV dinners or takeout. If it's a high holy day, we throw in a viewing of Sophie's Choice or Schindler's List. That's about as far as it goes in my family. But now I'm dating a Jewish girl, so mom's polishing the Kiddush cup?"

"Poor baby," I said, giving him a quick smooch before making a similar phone call to Finn's mother. Soon enough, we had inflated two air mattresses and covered them with blankets and pillows, making one big bed on the floor. The four of us stretched out: Noah, then me, then Quinn, then Finn. We watched Die Hard and The Princess Bride, but fell asleep before the second movie was over. I woke up in the middle of the night spooning with Noah. One of his hands had made its way to cup my breast as we slept. I rolled my eyes, but it actually felt nice. Quinn was curled up on her side facing me. She and Finn were spooning, too. The surprising part was that Quinn's hand was holding mine. I didn't want to let go, but I knew I had to.

As quietly as possible, I wiggled out of our nest and quietly slipped upstairs to use my bathroom. While I was at it, I washed my face and brushed my teeth. "Berry?" I heard Noah whisper outside the door.

"Noah?" I opened the door, and he took my face into his hands, kissing me deeply. He stepped into the bathroom and closed and locked the door behind us. Then Noah lifted me onto the bathroom counter. I wrapped my legs around his waist to pull him closer.

We kissed and kissed, his hands in my hair, my hands bunched in his t-shirt. Somehow, my hands worked their way under the hem of his shirt to his taut stomach. As I eased his shirt up and off, Noah's hands reached out to do the same for me. Once we were both topless, I suddenly felt really shy and crossed my arms over my chest. Noah turned off the overhead light so that we were only illuminated by the nightlight in the corner.

"Is that better?" he whispered.

"I know it's stupid. I mean, I'm the one who told the whole abstinence club that girls want sex as much as boys, but…I'm scared."

"It's okay, babe. How about this: for tonight, I'll only do to you what you do to me first, and any time you want to stop, we stop."

I bit my lip but nodded. This was an excellent plan. Noah was extremely seductive; if he'd led the way, I probably would have ended up going faster than I was emotionally prepared for. And as much as I'm usually good an verbal communication, I suddenly found it difficult to say what I wanted.

I reached up to run my hands over his chest. Noah's hands mirrored mine. I liked how that felt, so I ran my hands over his pecs, leading Noah to cup my breasts. He was so attuned to my motions that he echoed them just a second later: fingers, then tongues circling and flicking. It felt so good that I rubbed against him until our breathing was fast and shallow. I grew frustrated, missing the friction we'd accomplished making out in the past, when he'd been wearing jeans.

"Babe, do you want me to…help you out?" he asked, glancing down significantly.

I could feel my face flush. _Yes! _"No. I'm sorry, it's just…"

"Don't be sorry. It's cool. Actually, it's awesome. I made it further in one day as your boyfriend than in a whole week last time," he said, smirking, and I gave him a playful shove, but then he kissed me sweetly. "Um, babe, I do need you to give me a minute."

I looked down, and his boxers did little to hide Noah's current state. I gulped and nodded, leaving him in the bathroom as I slipped into my bedroom to take care of my own tension. Sated and cleaned up, Noah and I eventually tiptoed downstairs.

We crawled back into our makeshift bed in the living room, and I slipped my hand back into Quinn's. She kept her eyes shut, but whispered, "Slut! I can't believe you left me alone here!"

"With your sweet, handsome boyfriend? I am so sorry," I replied with a giggle.

"She's just jealous because he didn't wake up and try to put the moves on her," Noah grumbled.

Quinn opened her eyes, pushed herself to a sitting position, then whacked Noah with her pillow.

"Whasgoinon?" Finn mumbled, half-asleep.

"Nothing, Finn," Quinn said, as she put her pillow back where it belonged.

Finn just nodded, and pulled Quinn into his arms, kissing her and snuggling her close. His nose nuzzled behind her ear, and Quinn shivered.

"You're welcome, Fabray," Noah whispered.

"Shut up, Puck," Quinn replied, but she was smiling.

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**Review, please! I really appreciate every single one.  
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	27. Chapter 27 Mike: Speaking Up

**AN: Wow, y'all love Mike! Okay, here's a Mike chapter.  
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"Woah. How did the former chastity-club-pres deal with that?" I asked.

"She turned purple, so Rach decided to take pity on her and turned it from having boyfriends _sleep over_ to a slumber party in the living room." Puck groaned in frustration. "But Finn actually talked to me, and we got to sleep with our girls in our arms so…whatever."

"So you think her dads actually would have let you _stay over,_ like, alone in her room?"

"Yeah! Berry told me, 'Noah, as gay men they have a different attitude toward sex than the average straight parent. They were told for so long that how they felt and the things they did were wrong and unnatural. Although they encourage me to wait until the time is right and to make responsible decisions, they've also taught me not to be ashamed of my bodily urges or my sexuality.'"

I laughed at his Rachel voice. "That's awesome…and kind of weird."

"Just like Berry," he said.

I really liked Rachel. People have said she can't keep a secret, but she's always kept mine. I never had to ask her not to say anything, either. See, Rachel and I have been in a lot of the same dance classes since we were little. My mom has always made me take tap, ballet and ballroom classes. In elementary school, Rachel and I were even partners in ballroom dancing competitions together and we _cleaned up_. (That girl doesn't mess around when there's a trophy or a ribbon at stake.) I loved dancing, but I also knew that if the other guys at school found out, I'd get daily beat-downs.

When I got older, I convinced Mom to let me ditch tap and ballet for hip-hop and contemporary, and since I joined Glee, she agreed to let me drop ballroom. Everyone in school knows I'm an awesome dancer, but only Berry and Brittany know how I got that way. Most people think I'm like Matt, who just picked it up from stuff he saw on TV and in movies. Recently, though, I did this awesome tap routine with Tina (who knew Tina could dance like that?), and the partnering and flap-ball-changes came back a little too easily. If Berry hadn't known about my lessons before, she would have figured it out then.

I wish people would take it easier on Rachel. Actually, I wish everyone in Glee would take it easier on each other. I joined glee to dance, not to be in some weird soap opera.

Back when Coach Tanaka tried to make us choose between football and glee, I know a lot of people were surprised when I pick glee. They think I did it for Brittany, who was kind of my girlfriend then. The truth is, I only ever joined football so I could dance. I needed to be just popular enough that kids at school would leave me alone, and so—if they ever found out about the dancing—I'd have enough testosterone points in the bank to get away with it and keep any homophobic Lima losers off my back. (I never got why dancing was considered gay. I know there are a lot of gay guys who dance, but I think that's more 'cause people in the arts usually aren't jerks about gayness.)

You might think the football=testosterone strategy is a little less effective now that Kurt joined football, but the thing is, he's made it better. Not that people say that shit less often—about him, or about singing and dancing. It's that _I_ care less. Kurt just is who he is, with no fear-very badass. You want people to see you a certain way—think you're cool and strong. But the only way to _really _be cool and strong is to forget about the jerks, do what you love, and be who you are. And I am a hetero dude who enjoys singing and dancing—even ballet, contemporary and tap. Screw anybody who doesn't like it.

That's what Kurt and Rachel always got. Sometimes they slip, just like anybody. They do stupid stuff to try to fit in or be popular, like when Kurt went through his flannel phase, or when Rachel made that terrible (but kinda hilarious—Is it bad that I want to put it on YouTube?) Run, Joey, Run video. But they always know when to stop pretending. They never let the pretending take over, until they're afraid to open their mouths all the time.

"Dude, why are you staring at my girl?" Puck growled. We were sitting in the back row of the choir room, like always. Glee rehearsal hadn't started yet, but Rachel was talking to the piano dude. (Glen? Mark? No, Brad!)

"Because she's awesome." Puck's expression darkened. "Not like that, dude. Relax. She and I were friends when we were kids. Dance partners." He raised his eyes like he was skeptical or I was being euphemistic. I rolled my eyes.

I walked across the room, took Rachel's hand and pulled her into a hold a and just said, "Viennese Waltz." She smiled, then turned her head and arched her neck gracefully. It wasn't my favorite style, but it was the style that was least likely to show Rachel's underwear in that short skirt or get Puck jealous (a samba would have been a suicide mission). It's also the kind of dance that's about mastering a form—being as close to perfect as possible—so that you become part of the song.

A few turns in, Brad started playing a waltz on the piano. We did a series of fleckerls (when you turn, but don't move forward), natural turns and reverse turns around the Steinway. We slipped right into an old routine, and I guided her around music stands, a stool, and Kurt and Mercedes. I had just dipped Rachel when Mr. Shue walked in, applauding. Everyone else joined in as Rachel and I took our bows, and Rachel was giggling. One less secret. It felt good. I sat back down next to Puck and shrugged.

"Not bad, but if I'm going to dance, it has to be one of the ones where you get to touch more than the girl's hand. So, what else don't we know about you?" he asked. "You know, all these years, you've denied being a ninja, but…"

"Dude, you know that's kind of racist, right?"

"Like you repeating Cartman's Jew jokes from South Park isn't?"

Rachel started humming some song to herself. Kurt laughed and then they both sang together: _"__So, everyone's a little bit racist. Okay! Ethnic jokes might be uncouth, but you laugh because…" _They paused and fake whispered, _"…they're based on truth,"_ then went back to normal volume: _"Don't take them as personal attacks. Everyone enjoys them—so relax!"_

"Guys," Mr. Shue piped up, "I appreciate using a song to end conflict, but I don't think the judges at regionals are ready for Avenue Q. Maybe 'A Fine, Fine Line,' but most of the songs are too controversial."

"Babe, did you just sing from a dirty musical?"

"A dirty _puppet _musical," she confirmed with a giggle.

"Did you just call her 'babe?' Oh, hell, naw. We can't have two women sharing one house _and_ one man pre-regionals!" Mercedes exclaimed. "That's a recipe for disaster! You two couldn't wait one month? St. James' body isn't even cold!"

"We're not sharing a man!" Quinn exclaimed, and Finn grinned and took her hand. Kurt looked a little bit proud, and Mercedes smacked him for not filling her in on the gossip sooner.

"And I'm not _dead,_" Jesse complained. "Although I _am_ transferring."

"But…the pretty," Brittany complained. "Your voice _and_ your hair. No more curls sproinging around while we dance?"

Jesse laughed. "Look, I almost stayed—partly because singing with you guys is fun, and partly because I love a challenge. But I'm a senior, and I've spent four years with my friends at Carmel. I think I should graduate with them, especially since the reasons I came here are moot."

"Rachel's not moot anymore," Brittany exclaimed. "She got her voice back!"

"I think I'll miss you most of all," Jesse said, smiling at Brit.

"Did that dude just quote from 'The Wizard of Oz?'" Puck mocked.

"Did you just _recognize_ a quotation from 'The Wizard of Oz?'" Rachel teased back.

I laughed, because only Rachel could get away with saying something like that to Puck.

"I have a little sister!"

"Let it go, Noah, or I'll make you show the whole club how you won me over."

"Berry!" he exclaimed, looking both shocked, yet turned-on.

"I mean the duet, Noah!"

"Oh. No way in Hell, Berry."

"Man, what did you sing?" I asked. Seriously, what was so bad that he'd be ashamed to sing it? "That Sixteen-Going-on-Seventeen song my mom loves from 'The Sound of Music?' Something by the Jonas Brothers?"

"Shut it, twinkle-toes."

"Dude, you just said 'twinkle.'" Then he punched me in the arm, and I slugged him back.

Most of the rest of rehearsal was everybody saying goodbye to Jesse. Once he was gone, we just all stared at each other, trying to figure out what to do next. Then, to everyone's shock, I raised my hand and said, "I have an idea."

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**AN- What do you think Mike's idea will be for regionals? Take a guess in your review!**


	28. Chapter 28 Matt: Keeping Quiet

**Sorry for the million-year wait. This chapter is short, but I need your help to complete the story, so read on, then leave your suggestions in the comments!  


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"Remember when Jesse told Rachel about our strengths and weaknesses?" Mike said. All eyes were on him. I couldn't believe my best friend was speaking up like this. "He said, 'You guys just go wherever your emotions take you[…]You cook up all of this love and hate and drama in your personal lives, and you use it like fuel.' Well, what if we used that? What if it was like a musical?"

"That's a bold idea, Michael, but if the judges are show-choir purists, we might be punished for doing a miniature performance of a musical," Rachel said.

"Rachel's right about the judges," Mr. Shue added. "I love the idea, though. You guys have more heart, more soul, than Vocal Adrenaline. We just need a way to show it.

"I didn't mean a real musical like Phantom of the Opera or something," Mike clarified. He started to pace and finger tut while he talked. I tried to recognize the song in his head from the rhythm of his hands. "Ants" by edIT? I wondered if he even knew he was doing it. Now that I could hear the music in my head, it was head not to join in, with pop-n-lock and isos. "I meant…What if we made a set list that told our story? We could look at all the songs we've done all year and maybe a couple new ones." People don't know it, but Mike's a smart guy. I mean, some people _assume_ he's smart, because he's Asian, but other people assume he's dumb because he's a jock. Which stereotype do you trust, right?

I was glad other people were finally benefiting from Chang's genius, but on the other hand, it was throwing me off. Before, it was like we were in this together: football, dancing, singing, and spending the rest of our time incognito. What's with this sudden need to talk?

"That's actually kind of brilliant," Artie piped up. "We Gleeks were the lower class. Then some jocks joined, falling from grace. We became a united front—underdogs against the rest of the world. Can we overthrow our oppressors? It's good storytelling."

"I don't know what the _hell_ he's talking about, but as long as I get a killer solo it's fine by me," Mercedes exclaimed.

"And we have to use Brittany's awesome contemporary routine," Santana said firmly.

"I still think we should consider sequins and feathers on our costumes," Kurt proclaimed.

"NO!" shouted Puck, Artie, Mike and Finn. We all laughed and Kurt huffed.

"So," Tina asked, "Which songs should we do?"

And then everyone went crazy arguing for the next hour. Mercedes almost slapped Santana, Kurt almost pulled Rachel's hair, and Brittany burst into tears. I've never been so happy to be the guy who no one expects to talk.

When all the yelling, laughing and tears were over, though, we had a plan. Maybe it wouldn't be enough to beat Vocal Adrenaline, but maybe it would. One way or the other, we were going to have the time of our lives, and the audience was, too.

* * *

**So, what songs tell the story of New Directions? Medleys and mash-ups are encouraged. Remember: at least one song has to be a ballad!  
**


	29. Chapter 29 Will: What Matters

**AN- Sorry for the huge delay. I currently work two jobs and have no internet. I hate when writers abandon stories, so I'm drawing this one to a close in the following two chapters. Thank you for being such great readers.  
**

I hate to say it, but it didn't matter what the kids sang or how well they sang it. I knew we weren't going to win at Regionals the minute I saw the list of judges. Sue Sylvester: out to get us. Rod: local news guy who dated Sue (which shows his lack of judgment). And she's probably go some blackmail material on the guy. Olivia Newton-John: international pop star who made a career-reviving music video with Sue. Josh Groban: international pop star who knows me and my two male leads as "guys who hang out with my stalker."

But the kids did a great job. They killed on the Journey medley Finn and I arranged with solo lines for everyone. Mercedes and Artie rocked out on their duet of "Stand By Me" while Rachel, Puck, Brittney, Matt, Santana and Mike did their stunning contemporary dance routine. Then Kurt and Tina began "For Good" from _Wicked _as a duet. Gradually, the rest of the choir joined in until they were all singing: "Who can say if I've been changed for the better? I do believe I have been changed for the better, but because I knew you…I have been changed for good."

I said earlier that it didn't matter what they sang or how they sang it. I only meant that in terms of winning. I knew we couldn't win. But when I looked in their faces, lit up on that stage, I could see their hearts, and the audience could see it, too. When the last chord ended, they were on their feet, applauding, whistling, cheering and crying. I've never felt anything like it—not even when my glee club won nationals. New Directions may not have won a trophy, but they won the audience's hearts. The rest will come. Especially since Sue just told me she got Figgins to give the glee club another year. I don't understand why she did it, but I don't care. I only care that my kids get another year full of chances to shine.


	30. Chapter 30 Rachel: Something Special

**AN- Again, sorry for the huge delay. Here it is: the race to the finish. Sorry for the abrupt ending, but I didn't want to abandon it incomplete, and I won't have time to devote to the story anytime soon. Thanks for being such good readers.  
**

* * *

Azimio and Karofsky each flung a slushy, coating us in freezing, purple goo. Noah was about to launch himself after them, fists-first, when I grabbed his arm.

"Noah, wait!" I knew I would have to think fast to avoid violence, which would be bad for our permanent records. Also, if anyone pummeled Noah's lovely face, it could have a negative effect on both his appearance and his singing ability.

"Why?" he gritted out between clenched, chattering teeth. I knew logic regarding negotiation as an alternative to violence would not be effective at this point.

"Because it's grape?" I asked. Then, I stretched up on my tiptoes, and (before I could think better of it) licked his jaw.

"Oh, yeah, Berry?" Next thing I knew, Noah had my back pressed against a row of lockers, and my legs were wrapped around his waist. First he licked slushy off my jaw, but his lips kept creeping lower and lower until I moaned. Which made Tina giggle, which reminded me that we were creating a spectacle of ourselves in public! I tried to remind Noah of the fact.

"Babe, you love attention and notoriety," he said, sucking on my earlobe in a way that made it quite difficult to form a coherent argument. I couldn't help but wiggle against him. He only held me tighter and kissed me more passionately.

"Noah, please!" I gasped. My hands and legs were holding him closer, even as my brain screamed that we needed to stop this madness before I ended up happily losing my virginity in a crowded hallway.

"God, I love it when you say that!"

"Jacob Ben-Israel is watching!" I yelped before I kissed Noah again.

"Maybe the little perve will learn something." Then he used his teeth to tug my shirt, and a button slipped out of a button hole. It took only a fraction of a second. How was that possible?

"He's going to learn what my bra looks like if you don't stop unbuttoning! Noah, I swear if we don't…Oh!" I shook my head to clear it. "If we don't stop, I'll…"

"THIS IS A HALLWAY, NOT A BROTHEL!" I have never been happier to hear Coach Sylvester's megaphone.

The video Jacob shot of our slushy make-out session was all over the Internet by lunch. Instead of congratulating the puckheads who doused Noah and me, the McKinley student body was complimenting us on our physiques and kissing techniques.

"Aren't you embarrassed that your shirt was basically see-through?" Tina whispered, scandalized.

"I think it's more alluring to leave some things to the imagination," I replied honestly, "But I'm not opposed to nudity in a role if called for, so this is good preparation."

I thought being in New Directions was going to change everything, back when I turned Sandy Ryerson in for fondling a student. Well, some things are the same. Finn and Quinn are the perfect couple. Mercedes and Kurt are BFFs, and so are Puck and Finn. I'm still the target of slushies and online gossip.

But a few things have changed, and they've made all the difference.

I have a mom. She adopted Puck and Quinn's baby, and these days she's more interested in Beth than in me. That hurts, but I know who she is and where she is. I know she's there if I really need her.

I have a sister. She's moved back in with her mom (now that Mrs. Fabray kicked out Mr. Fabray), but Quinn's made it clear: "Me leaving doesn't change anything. We're family now. I love you, Berry."

"I love you, too, Fabray!" I'd said. And then my dads initiated a group hug and we all cried so hard that it was an hour before we could finish carrying Quinn's suitcases to the car. We hang out sometimes, and even go on triple dates with our boyfriends and Santana and Brittney. Quinn will even text me out of nowhere just to ask me how I am.

So does Noah. Last week, he even said he loved me. He said it in bed, though, and Quinn says that doesn't count because guys will say anything between the sheets. But Santana pointed out that she's never heard of Noah saying anything like that to a girl, and Britt and Quinn had to agree with her. However, I once heard my Daddy make an observation similar to Quinn's, so I'm holding out for Noah to say it again while we're both fully clothed. I'm confident that the declaration will occur within the week.

Boyfriend or not, even when I'm by myself now, I know I'm not alone. I don't feel my life ticking away anymore. I'm part of something special, and when you're a part of something special, that makes you special.

I used to hope that was true. Now I know it is.

* * *

**The End**


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